And All That Follows
by TheMarvelousLori
Summary: "I thought a lot about people who had been through terrible things like wars... and having to come home and rebuild, having to espouse normality after seeing horrors, has always seemed to me to be such a courageous thing to do." -J.K. Rowling
1. At Least a Day

**Welcome! I just want to thank you for taking the time to read my fanfiction. It's been a while in the making, and I'm really looking forward to writing it. **

**As those of you who have read my profile will know, I'm a long-time lurker of Fanfiction, but this is my first account and my first story. I would appreciate any feedback at all! If I'm exceptionally dreadful, just give me the say so! Lol! Any and all criticism, comments, or general advice is always, always welcome. **

**This is a story that I know has been done many times; it's about Harry's life after the war. I know that it's cliché, but I've been waiting to do this for so long that I just couldn't resist. I'm going to try my hardest to give my views on the aftermath, and the relationships and rebuilding that followed.**

**Please read, review, and enjoy! Thanks!**

**I do NOT own Harry Potter, I am NOT J.K. Rowling. **

1

Sunlight.

That was Harry's first conscious thought. Sunlight.

The drapes that were usually pulled around the four poster bed were open. The light was shining directly into his closed eyes. Trying hard to think back to when he fell asleep, Harry could only conjure the vague idea that he'd simply been too exhausted to muster the energy to close them; that was his second thought.

The third was that, had his eyes been open, he would be able to see clearly; his glasses were still firmly on his face, resting on the bridge of his nose. Slightly lopsided from sleep, he felt them slide a centimeter down his face.

And when he became aware of his face, he was aware of the rest of his body. With this feeling came pain; not sharp, immediate, stabbing pain, but a dull, achy soreness. He felt similar to having had a brutal Quidditch practice the night previously. Eyes still firmly shut to the world, Harry mentally explored his various injuries. His chest, he decided, hurt the most; just beneath where his heart lay beating, he knew, was where the Killing curse had hit him. Had it been the previous night? Two, three nights ago? Harry hadn't the faintest idea.

That being his fourth thought, his fifth thought was that he was alone. He hadn't expected this. He wasn't sure if he'd been thinking clearly, but he remembered that while walking towards the dormitory that he had so often shared with Ron, Dean, Seamus, and Neville, that there would be a line of many witches and wizards waiting for him to wake, in order to bestow upon him their many thanks and gratitude. But there was no one in the room except for Harry.

There was a small part of him that was convinced that none of it had happened. That perhaps he had imagined killing Voldemort, finally, after so many years of struggle and months of misery with Ron and Hermione; that, perhaps, he had truly been killed after all, and was living on in his own reality, existing, but not existing. Or, maybe, none of it had happened at all, none of it. That he was still ten years old, living in a cupboard under some stairs, and it had all been a wild, elaborate, cruel dream.

This, he thought, more than anything, prompted him to stir. To assure himself that none of this was a dream, that he was alive, and victorious.

He decided to do it in steps.

He began by opening his eyes. The light dazzled him briefly, and it took his eyes a moment to focus in the sudden brightness. He made out a pitcher and a glass waiting on his night stand, where it had always sat waiting for him if he was thirsty in the night. He saw the window, with its damned, awakening sunlight, just a few feet in front of him. In the peripheral of his vision, he could see the edge of one of the other beds stationed around the dormitory.

Next, he rolled over from his left side onto his back. Just the small motion made his entire body complain, the aching muscles disturbed from rest. He winced slightly, wishing for a pain relief potion, or maybe more sleep.

Slowly, he sat up. Again, his muscles rose in a chorus of shouting that couldn't dampen his efforts. As he raised himself, leaning against the headboard, his back gave a small crack, not complaining, but waking up.

Having a decent view of the room now, he turned his head, slowly from left to right. The sunlight from the window filled every corner, as though asking the room to wake up with him. The beds were, as he thought, empty, but some showed signs of being recently slept in. He had no way of knowing if they'd been slept in by his four usual roommates, or perhaps some other survivor of the battle simply needing a few hours' sleep. At the foot of his bed, about the place where his school trunk would go, were clean clothes; his Muggle clothes, not robes. A pair of jeans, clean socks and hand-washed trainers, a t-shirt and jacket. He thought of Hermione, or Mrs. Weasley; at least one of them had been up here to check on him.

This led him to think that he'd been asleep a long time. He glanced down at the battered watched that had belonged to Fabian Prewett; it read one twenty-four.

He wasn't sure of the date, but he knew that he had fallen asleep in the later morning or the early afternoon. He couldn't grasp the idea that he had only slept a few short hours, so assumed that it had been at least a day. At least a day since Voldemort had finally fallen; at least a day of mourning for those lost. At least a day…

A sharp pain stabbed his chest, catching him unawares. He had difficulty swallowing for a moment.

Though they had disturbed him in his dreams, he thought of those that he had now lost; Fred, Lupin, Tonks, Colin Creevey… People that he hadn't realized meant so much to him until it was too late.

A hotness prickled in his eyes, and he blinked hurriedly.

Deciding that movement was now the only way to distract himself, he pushed out of bed, lowering his sore feet to the floor. As he tested his weight, his heels cried at him to sit back down, that they were far too sore to do any sort of walking.

Ignoring them, Harry limped his way to the edge of his bed. He stripped his filthy, bloody, torn robes, from his sore body and traded for the clean Muggle clothes. He arms cracked and ached with every movement. Before dressing completely, he glanced at his bare chest, assessing the damage done.

Burns, healed but scarred, marred his stomach, the upper half of his left arm, and his hands. There were various minor cuts and scratches all along his body, from branches, hexes, rubble, and Merlin knew what else. He took notice of a particularly nasty, scabbed cut that flanked the right side of his body, vertical and ominous. He decided it would need to be properly healed. Where the Killing curse had hit him was an enormous bruise, purple and angry. He didn't prod it, but decided to best leave it alone.

He dressed then, gingerly draping the clothing over his poor body. His still-sleepy fingers had trouble lacing his trainers, but he eventually sorted everything out. He stood again, his feet feeling slightly better in his cushioned shoes. Glancing at his rucksack beside his bed, he chose that it was alright to leave it until later. He would come back for it. But right now, he had to eat, and find his friends. He didn't want to carry the rucksack with him.

He crossed the dormitory and walked down the familiar, peaceful, spiral stairs. As he pushed open the door, he saw that the Gryffindor common room was also deserted. He had expected this, but felt an unexpected, dull, pang of loneliness. Though no one was in the room, a fire cracked merrily in the fireplace. Harry told himself he was being irrational and that of course everybody must be downstairs.

He pushed open the Fat Lady's portrait and made his way to the hallway outside.

The Fat Lady was in her painting as she swung shut, and it was wonderful to see a familiar face. Harry looked at her, and she looked at him. She said, "It's good to see you awake."

Harry's mouth was dry. He swallowed, and cleared his throat. His voice was hoarse when he said, "How long was I asleep?"

"Two days," said the Fat Lady, "But don't look so surprised, boy. I doubt anyone would be able to stay on their feet for very long after vanquishing the Dark Lord."

"Er, right," said Harry, a little off put. "Do you know where everyone is?"

"In the Great Hall, I presume, or helping with clearing the castle. I shall let the Headmistress know you are awake, though."

"Right," said Harry again, "Thanks."

The Fat Lady proceeded out of her portrait, and Harry continued down the hallway.

He still met nobody on his way downstairs. He noticed, though, that the majority of the rubble on most corridors was clear, though the statues and suits of armor were still missing and windows were still broken. The Grand Staircase was utterly deserted, collapsed railing removed, and it wasn't until he went into the main foyer that he even saw a glimpse of anyone. In pairs, wizards and witches were picking up the fallen brick and stone, cleaning floors, directing orders. He spotted Argus Filch and Mrs. Norris in a corner, surveying the scene.

No one noticed him as he weaved his way through, into the Great Hall. Looking around, it had changed greatly from two days ago. The dead were no longer amongst the living, but had been moved somewhere else. Black drapes had been cast over the walls in mourning, just as when Cedric Diggory and Dumbledore had died. People were still grouped together, continuing to not sit by house. He scanned the table for his friends, and saw a familiar crop of bushy hair seated next to a red haired, freckle faced someone. Smiling, he made his way towards them, noticing that they were alone.

Still, nobody took notice of him, so it was without incident that he reached his two friends. Ron, for once, was not eating. He eyed his full plate of bacon sandwiches and chicken with a look of dull detachment. Hermione was sipping on a bowl of stew, the Daily Prophet spread out in front of her. The front headline read:

**THE BOY WHO LIVED VANQUISHES DARK LORD: ****CELEBRATION ALL OVER THE WIZARDING WORLD. **

"Getting creative with their titles, aren't they?" Harry asked lightly.

Hermione jumped, dropping her spoon. Ron's head shot up so quickly that Harry was worried he injured his neck.

"Harry!" Hermione cried with a slight gasp, pushing herself up hurriedly. She hugged him fiercely, gripping the back of his shirt between clenched fingers. He hugged her back tightly, smiling at Ron over her shoulder. Ron had gotten to his feet too. There was a cut across his right cheek, healing, and a bruise on his forehead, but he otherwise looked just fine and freckly as always. Ron gave him a grin, though there was a sadness in it. Harry couldn't shake the feeling that it would be a while before that completely disappeared, and wondered if he had the same look.

Hermione pulled away. Her nose looked like it'd been broken and repaired, and there were bruises along her neck. Her eyes searched his, and he silently asked her for answers.

"Madam Pomfrey said that she didn't expect you to wake up for another day, at least," Hermione said hurriedly, brushing hair impatiently out of her face. "She said that there was too much accumulated stress and sleep-deprivation, and that you needed to sleep everything off."

Harry shrugged. "I should've closed the curtains."

He turned to Ron. They looked at each other for the space of two heartbeats, and then rushed at each other together. Harry gripped his best friend, the new fear that he was dreaming stirring deep in his chest, and he clapped him on the back. There was something unspoken in that hug, something comforting and something deep that Harry couldn't begin to explain. He wasn't sure if Ron was thinking the same things he was, but he thought, at least, that they both shared the feeling of relief that they were safe and alive.

Ron pulled away, and Harry asked, "How is the family?"

Darkness filled his friend's eyes. "They're coping." His voice cracked, "Mum and Dad couldn't stay, they're at home… They couldn't take… Being here…"

Ron worried his bottom lip, pleading silently with Harry. Harry shook his head. "Okay."

The three sat down again, Harry next to Hermione. He hadn't forgotten the scene in the Room of Requirement, with dropped Basilisk fangs and a desperation that he hadn't thought possible. He thought that it would be rather tactless of him to not at least let them sit next to each other.

Hermione was busy shoveling every edible item within her arm's reach under Harry's nose. "Eat, Harry, you've been out for two days, lost a lot of blood, and haven't had a proper meal since Bill and Fleur's."

Harry's mind was too foggy to form an argument, so he did as she suggested, surprised to discover that he was ravenous. Around a mouthful of sandwich, he asked, "What's been happening?"

Ron shrugged his shoulders. "Not too much, mate. They're cleaning the castle, really. Kingsley is Minister of Magic now; the newspapers have covered the story top to bottom; the funerals are starting to be held…"

His voice trailed off, an edge of pain in his voice. Hermione took his hand under the table, her eyes suspiciously bright. Harry looked at her, and she silently mouthed, "Thursday."

The food already almost gone, Harry said, "So there's not much to discuss, is there?"

Ron answered again. "Nothing's happened yet. The only reason that the three of us are still here is because they wanted you to stay and sleep. It doesn't matter, though, most people stayed. Helping the cleanup, you know."

Harry swallowed his last mouthful of food. "Yeah, that makes sense. I just thought—"

"Harry!"

Turning to his right, Harry felt his heart stutter, skip a few beats.

_Ginny._

She had never looked more beautiful. Sunlight danced on her flaming hair, turning it a wonderful orange. Her mouth was slightly open, looking at him, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Even from halfway across the Great Hall, their eyes found each other like magnets, looking, hungrily.

He stood up at the same time she started running. Ignoring the fact that Ron and Hermione were behind him watching, and who knew who else, he hastily walked to her, stumbling over his shoes in his hurry. He held out his arms for her, meeting her at the halfway point. She slammed into him with such force that he stumbled backwards, but he didn't care.

_Ginny. Ginny._

Her flowery scent washed around him, made him bury his face in her hair and hold her tightly. She gripped him around his chest, brushing the bruise beneath his heart, making him wince, but he didn't care about that either. She was here, in his arms. He suddenly thought that if he was dreaming, it was truly wonderful, and he was okay with sleeping for a while longer. He caught her hair in his left hand, the other wrapped around her slender waist. They held each other close, breathing together, so happy just to see each other again, both alive and virtually unharmed.

Her shoulders shook, just slightly, and that made his heart lurch. He didn't want her to be upset.

Pulling away, he brushed the red hair from her eyes, looking at her. She was uninjured on her face, but he noticed that she held her left wrist slightly more tenderly than her right. He made a note to ask her about it later, when they were alone, talking again. Her eyes were wide, the gorgeous, warm, chocolate color that he loved. They were raw with so many emotions that he couldn't decipher just one. She searched his face, absently brushing a cut next to his lip.

The only thing he managed to get out was, "You're okay… You're okay…"

They took a step back from each other. He was worried that if he kissed her he wouldn't have the strength to stop, that he'd get lost like he usually did. He saw in her face that she was thinking the same thing, and didn't want to try. As they looked, her face fell into the same drawn sadness that Ron had, and she bit the inside of her cheek. She lay a hand at the base of her collarbone, gently, clearing her throat. The gesture, so delicate, pushed his heart clear into his throat, so that he wouldn't be able to talk again if he tried. Harry noticed there was an injury there, though he wasn't sure what it was.

Ginny smiled, softly. "Hey, Potter."

He looked at her some more, trying to convey with his eyes what he couldn't say through the lump in his throat. Ginny said, "I'm glad you're awake. I was starting to get worried."

Harry's face split into an unexpected grin. "You? Worried? Come on now, Weasley, I would've expected better from someone as tough as nails."

Her smile widened. "Cut me some slack. I watched you kill the darkest wizard of all time, and then you slept for forty six hours. Excuse me if I was slightly concerned for your overall wellbeing."

Hermione and Ron had sauntered over, Ron oddly quiet. Hermione and Ginny looked at each other, and then Ginny said, "Hermione and I were discussing earlier today that it was time we all got out of here."

Harry said nothing.

"There isn't much for us to do, you see," Ginny continued, "We thought it would be better if we just made our way home and licked our wounds before jumping back into it."

Harry looked at Ron, and Ron shrugged with a kind of apathy that stirred worry in Harry's mind. Ron had never been the most decisive, but it wasn't like him to remain silent. Harry made another note to check up on him later.

"Okay," Harry found himself agreeing, "I don't really want to stay here either."

Ron and Hermione took the lead out of the Great Hall. Harry and Ginny followed, Ginny taking his hand for just a second, squeezing as though worried he would disappear again.

**Okay! I hope everyone enjoyed this! There's more to come, surely! I'm having some trouble not writing, so I might even update tonight! We'll just have to see how it goes. Thanks so much for reading! Please review!**


	2. Those Lovely Curves

**Before I begin, I must thank my two lovely reviewers! :D  
IrishEyesAreSmiling: Here you are! XD**

**Pahjeh19: I know, it's so overdone, but I really couldn't help myself! I enjoy reading them so much! Really, you think I'm well written? Thank you so much.**

**Also, before I start, I wanted to apologize to everyone who read the first chapter; I noticed too late that there were some minor spelling mistakes. If you don't know this now, then you will later, but I **_**despise**_** spelling and grammatical mistakes, so I'll try to proofread more carefully. I think I just got caught up in the moment and excited. X3**

**Okay, here's another chapter! I know it's not last night, but oh well. XD I'm having so much fun writing this. Thank you so much for reading, following, reviewing, and Lord knows what else. X3 I'll try to update as often and as well written as I can. **

2

Harry only wanted to have a walk around the orchards with her. He didn't really see that as a difficult request.

Upon arriving at the Burrow, this thought stuck into his mind so fiercely that he even began to imagine how to sneak away. A part of him, the small part that wasn't imagining Ginny and her beautiful hair, her wonderful lips, told him that he was being irresponsible and rude. He should think of the Weasley family first. They had just lost a son, and a brother. It was wrong of him to want to sneak away, if not just to escape the terrible guilt that followed with each pair of accusing eyes.

None of them blamed him, he knew that; he couldn't help but feel, though, that there was something guarded and hidden behind the eyes that looked at him but didn't see. Mrs. Weasley was having difficulty answering direct questions, and was prone to dissolve into tears at random points. Mr. Weasley was silent, trying to express his grief more graciously. Bill and Charlie were trying to keep the family going, by spouting encouragement at every opportunity. Harry had only been there an hour, and he had heard the phrase "It's going to be _okay_" said more times than he could count. He wasn't complaining about this. He, too, had a hole in his chest that wasn't going to be filled anytime soon.

Ron was much like his father, stony silent. Percy hadn't been seen by Harry at all, though Charlie explained that he was in his room, unable to face the grief. And George… George was absolutely inconsolable. There was nothing left of the person that Harry had come to know. It was as though George's entire personality died with Fred. He was a shell that sat in a corner, there but not there, not speaking, not blinking, with the same ashen colored skin and blank eyes. Always blank eyes.

It was when he saw George that Harry felt the guiltiest. Regardless of what the other Weasleys said, the way that George sometimes looked at Harry, it was as though he was asking him why he brought this upon them. Those blank eyes that Harry couldn't stand to look at—the ones that showed no emotion—were the ones that haunted him most.

Ginny was being very brave, and Harry couldn't help but admire her even more than he already did. She hadn't cried, not in front of him, yet. Her chin was always firm, her back straight. He could see right through her, and knew that inside she was hurting and needed him. That he needed her just as much. Sometimes, their eyes would meet, rather from across the table or at a passing glance, and unspoken things would pass between them; passions that couldn't be uttered, silent pleas for alone time, for harebrained schemes to escape just for a few moments.

It was Ginny who finally found a way to leave, though not in the way Harry had in mind. The family, sans Percy, was grouped quietly at the table, not talking. There was food, excellent as always, but untouched. Bill and Charlie were making forced conversation. Mrs. Weasley was weeping silently. George sat at the far end, blank eyes staring.

Ginny met Harry's eyes, and a silent plea was there. Harry didn't understand, at first, until she acted on it.

She abruptly stood up. He wasn't sure if she was pretending or not—a part of him was convinced this was real—but her bottom lip quivered violently, and tears filled her eyes. Without saying a word, she threw down her napkin and ran from the kitchen, slamming the back door behind her.

Half the family didn't seem to notice, or to have the energy to fetch her. Mrs. Weasley and Bill made to stand up, but Harry beat them to it.

"It's okay," he said, "Stay here. I'll go help her."

Mrs. Weasley sat down, resigned, but Bill met eyes with Harry, ready to argue. Perhaps Bill read something that Harry hadn't intended to let on his face, but after a moment, he sat, too.

Harry followed Ginny out the back door, closing the door gently behind him. Blinking in the sunlight, he saw her walking hurriedly through the trees in the garden, many yards away. He followed her, jogging slightly, wanting to comfort her even if she was acting.

She stopped by a weeping willow next to the pond, well out of view from the house. Harry watched her curl into a ball and saw her shoulders shake. He felt himself go cold. This was no act.

Doubling his pace, he reached her in a span of seconds. Slightly out of breath, he sat himself beside her and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. Despite the heat today, she didn't resist, but pressed herself against him, crying quietly into his shirt. He rubbed her back lightly with fingertips, trying his best to comfort her.

The pain came unexpectedly. Maybe it was because his strong, rarely-weepy Ginny was crying on him, or maybe it was being back at the Burrow with so many happy memories, but the pain knocked the wind out of him. He couldn't swallow past the hard rock that was rapidly forming in the top of his throat. His eyes grew hot again, much like they did this morning, and he tried with all his might to blink back the wet. Strong. He had to be strong for her. But he couldn't. With Fred gone, and Ginny crying on him, and Ron silent, nothing was as it should be and his world was upside down.

And he was crying too. The tears were falling silently down his face, for everything that he had lost and for everything that he would lose. He didn't want to think about the future, rebuilding the castle and burying the dead and moving on with their lives. He wanted to sit here with Ginny and make the pain stop, for both of them. If that meant that he had to halt the world so that they could collect themselves, then damn it, he would do it. But the world, so unfair, continued to turn, and he watched the sun inch downwards in the sky through blurry eyes.

He lost track of the time, but didn't care. The only thing that mattered to him was that Ginny was still buried in his chest, no longer crying, but trying to heal a wound that he couldn't see and couldn't fix. He passed a hand over his face, wiping away the tears on his cheeks. The movement caused her to stir, and she sat up to look at him.

His heart began to ache. Her eyes were dark and wide, bruised and vulnerable. Her expression reminded him of shattered glass, so delicate but broken. There was a light missing from her eyes that he wouldn't be able to call back if he tried. Part of her was gone, forever.

He wondered, vaguely, if he was missing too. He, personally, felt as though two parts of him were gone: the part that had belonged to Fred, Lupin, and all the others, but also the part that had belonged to Voldemort. The tainted part. The part that he never wanted to call back, ever. Had something shifted in his eyes? Were they lighter, was there less worry and fear lined in his face? He had no way of knowing, and wasn't shallow enough to ask Ginny. He wouldn't do that to her when she was so lost with no way back.

Harry brushed hair from her face, thumb gently touching her cheek. She continued to look at him with those glass eyes, asking so many things at once that Harry could only guess what she truly needed. He broke the silence by saying, "I'm sorry."

It was meant for many different things, and she didn't seem to understand that. Her expression didn't change, but she looked at him as though waiting for him to continue.

He elaborated, "I'm sorry that I left you here last August. I'm sorry that I had to break your heart last year. I'm sorry if I ever led you to think that I had interest in another girl, or ever would, and that it was one of my reasons for leaving. I'm sorry that I didn't dance with you at Bill and Fleur's wedding. I'm sorry that I couldn't write to you, though I wanted to so badly. I'm sorry that I've put your family through all this. I'm sorry about your brother. But mostly, I'm sorry that we've lost a year together, one that would've been very happy. I'm sorry that I'm the Boy Who Lived."

She shook her head, absorbing his words in silence. She said, "You can't help who you are, Harry. I understood why last year, and I still do. You had to be the hero and save the world, it isn't your fault."

Something shifted in her eyes. "And it isn't your fault that Fred isn't here anymore. If he had to… You know… Go… He would've wanted it to happen… The way that it did…"

Her voice trailed off, increasingly getting higher. She swallowed sharply, and Harry's heart twisted. He took her hand, his fingers through hers.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he whispered.

She didn't give any inclination she heard him. Then, "He knew, I think. Or he had a hunch. That something would… H-happen." She took a breath. Started again. "He caught me, just before they divided everybody up. Told me that no matter what happened, I'm still the strongest person he knows and I can make it through anything." Her eyes stared straight ahead, still glassy. Harry looked at her face, drawn and pale, worried for her, chest crying for her. She went on, "I don't know if he said something to everybody else. But he said that to me. And… I'm never going to forget it… It was the last time I ever spoke to him…"

Her lips quivered again and tears filled her eyes. Harry was on the verge of telling her to stop, when she said, "And… I didn't even think anything of it. I was worried where you'd gone, and I was worried about someone getting hurt, that I didn't stop to take three seconds to tell my brother I loved him and appreciated his looking out for me for my whole life… It didn't strike me that anything would happen to _us_… A foolish thought, I know. I knew people were going to die, but my family has always come out strong and together through everything, that I never thought one of us wasn't going to make it…"

The pooling tears spilled, staining her face. Her nose was very red, and her lips still trembled from the restraint of control. Harry took her small face in his hands and made her look at him. She bit her lip.

"Ginny," Harry said, "You had no idea, alright? It isn't your fault. You didn't do anything wrong. Of course you were distracted, we were preparing for a battle. It's also natural to think that everyone would come out safely; I thought the same thing, though I was scared out of my mind for you and everyone else. Luck just wasn't on our side this time. We can't change anything, and if I could, then I would. I'd bring him back in a heartbeat. But that isn't possible. And it's just going to take time for everyone to accept what's happened. If there's anything you need, sweetheart, I'm never far away. Alright?"

Ginny nodded. "Okay, Harry."

His skin tingled. He loved hearing her say his name, as sad as he was, as terrible as he hurt for her and her family and for himself, there was still that uncontrollable longing to be with her. He would have to master his feelings, just like before.

He had forgotten her. As terrible as it sounded, he had forgotten just how beautiful she was. What her hands felt like; the curve of her waist and the arch of her eyebrows, her slender throat. How her body shifted and moved like his. He had forgotten, and now he remembered, and it was difficult to not look at her, to not love every detail about her face, even while staring tragedy down. It was hard to control his emotions when it came to her.

Harry stood up, and offered her a hand. She stood up, too, a head shorter than he was, her hair barely tickling his chin.

She looked up at him, and smiled. "You got taller."

Taken aback, Harry said, "I did?"

"Yes. And your hair is longer. You need to get it cut."

Harry touched the top of his head, the hair that never lay flat, the longer length. "Yes, I know. We stayed with Bill and Fleur for just a little while… I think it was in March; No… April. Fleur trimmed it for me; I guess it grows quickly."

He looked at her, now. Her hair was the same length he remembered. Her face was the same. No, it was her body that was different. The curves more pronounced. Her chest bigger. Her legs more shapely than before. He felt a blush spread across his face when he said, "You look… Older."

Red. Why did he _always_ turn red around her?

She smiled, truly smiled, her teeth dancing in the light, and he would've traded all the gold in Gringotts to keep it there. She turned a light, delicate pink. "No hormones now, Mr. Potter."

He smiled back. "I'll try my hardest, Miss Weasley. It's not like I can control what I think and feel."

Her eyes met his under her lids, seductive. He had trouble swallowing again. The pink in her face deepened. "And what are you thinking?"

No. Not with her so vulnerable like this. He wouldn't tell her. He couldn't. Instead, he grinned at her, and said, "That's my business now. Maybe someday I'll share it with you."

All seductiveness vanished like dew in sunlight. She stuck her tongue out. "Fine. Be that way."

He took her hand. "You know I won't, not so soon."

She shook her head. "No, I know. But I can still tease you."

He looked away, suddenly slightly uncomfortable; maybe he didn't trust himself alone with her just yet, after all. "Should we head back inside?"

She nodded, and led the way, pulling him by his hand.

He wasn't sure if she walked in front of him on purpose or by mistake, but he had a lovely view of her swinging hips. Back, forth, back, forth.

_Get a grip, Potter_, he told himself, _Now's not the time_.

Back, forth, back, forth.

He forced himself to look at her dancing hair. The trees they were passing. The ground. The sky. Anything but those lovely curves.

They reached the house, and walked in the kitchen. Everyone looked up as they entered. There was something different, now. The grief was still there, but not so heavy. Some food had been picked at. There was slow talking.

Ginny and Harry resumed their seats, he next to Ron, she beside Charlie. They still sat across from each other, and when their eyes met, they would both blush and hurriedly look away, smiling slightly.

Ron said to Harry, "She looks better."

Harry nodded. "We had a talk. I think she feels better about it."

Ron looked around the table at the rest of his family. Harry noticed that Percy had joined them, munching quietly on some chicken. "We've been talking too," Ron said, "And I think it's gotten better. George is still the same… But I think that it's helped him. At least he's eating."

Harry looked over at Ron's closest brother, and saw him eating a cracker. That was a good sign.

A shrill sound of laughter lit up the entire room. Together, Harry and Ron looked to their right, at Mrs. Weasley. She had hastily covered her mouth with both hands, her eyes wide, looking as though she had let slip a nasty swear word. Her eyes darted around at everybody, anxious.

But then Bill started to laugh, too. And then Mr. Weasley. Slowly, everyone joined in the laughter, tears of mirth filling some eyes, giggles escaping from everybody. Even George let the shadow of a smile cross his face, a chuckle leaving his throat.

And Harry thought, maybe, things were better, after all.


	3. The Rest of Their Lives

**Hello once again audience! (I love Toby Turner. X3) Thanks so much for reading so far! All my reviewers and followers, and favorites, you guys are great. I really appreciate the love and support I'm getting. Seriously, you guys have no idea how much it encourages me, and how loud it really speaks. Thanks so much. Keep those reviews coming! ;)**

**I'd like to respond to some reviewers now:**

**Anonymous guest: Thank you so much for leaving that! You rock, honestly. I did try to put a little bit of humor here and there, just so it isn't so bland. XD**

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**As always, I don't own Harry Potter, I'm just a crazy fan. X3**

3

It was a pleasant beginning to May. The trees were green, lush and full of life; flowers bloomed in the nearby fields beside the Burrow. The pond was warm, wonderful for swimming and fishing.

Inside the house, things were not as sunny. There were still awkward, tense silences followed by forced conversation: meager attempts to keep the family distracted, to keep the ball rolling. Sometimes, the thick, awful silence would be broken by arguments. More often than not, Harry found himself staring fixedly at his plate when the shouting began. He hated to look up and see two of his loved ones, red in the face, screaming at each other as though they had caused physical harm.

There was no more crying, but Harry almost wished that the fleeting sadness would come back. It was better than this horrible, swelling bubble of anger.

Harry knew, though, that things would die down. He wasn't quite sure if it was instinct, or if he was simply wishful. He thought, at least, they couldn't yell at each other forever.

The arguing was always followed by talking between the two members, sometimes three, that had fought tooth and nail in the kitchen with their words, but then dissolved into tears in the parlor room. Thus so far, no fists had flown, and Harry was silently thankful for that.

Fred's funeral was held a few days after Harry woke up in his dormitory. Harry had only ever attended Dumbledore's funeral, and therefore had thought that funerals were always done that way in the Wizarding world. It was to surprise that he found it wasn't anything like that at all; a coffin in the ground and merely the family, clad in black and quietly weeping. Harry felt that this was a severe injustice; that everybody should be given as grand an exit as Dumbledore had. The same wizard that had presided Dumbledore's ceremony and Bill and Fleur's wedding was in attendance, saying whatever it is he says. Harry was too busy watching the hole in the ground to listen.

It had been a beautiful day, one that made an aching heart bleed less.

Slowly, the various elder Weasleys had gone back to their business. Bill went back home to Shell Cottage and his wife, Charlie to Romania, Percy to London. Percy, of course, had been appointed to help oversee the reconstruction of the Ministry. It struck a chord in Harry that, despite such an important job, he heard not a single boastful thing about it.

George, having finally gained back his words after the funeral, had chosen to continue the shop, mumbling quietly about how it's what Fred would have wanted. He departed a week after the funeral, eyes still blank, but perhaps with a little more color to his face.

Remus and Tonks' funeral was similar to Fred's. Andromeda Tonks stood, alone, between her daughter's and son-in-law's graves with an odd expression on her face, one caught between pain and a stifling of tears. Before the services, Harry had been introduced to his godson, Teddy Lupin. He was a thin baby, with hair that was a different color every time Harry looked at it. He slept during the service, in Harry's arms, dressed in a simple romper. He was much too young to understand, anyway.

Naturally, Harry and Hermione were asked to stay for the summer. Harry agreed immediately, but Hermione took time to deliberate. She assured a sulky Ron that she would return, but that she wished to reunite with her parents and give them their memories back. Ron had a shouting match with her about how she couldn't possibly go alone, and how it would be absolutely mad to try. Only with the assurance that she would seek the help of some spare Aurors did Ron finally concede and request she be back soon.

This left a lonely Harry, Ginny, and Ron. Often, they passed the time by playing with the single Quaffle and sluggish Weasley brooms. Harry, with a pang, missed his Firebolt whenever they decided to give the slow game another try.

Two weeks after Fred's funeral, their boredom was alleviated briefly by Kingsley. His husky voice drifted to them from the kitchen as they headed back from the orchards for lunch. The three looked at each other, and then rushed towards the house.

Ron, with longer legs, made it first, and arrived in the kitchen out of breath, followed closely by Harry and Ginny. Sunlight shone through the window, the ray halting just before Kingsley. He sat in the center of the long table, a cup of tea in his hands, speaking slowly to Mr. Weasley from across the table, his golden hoop earring glinting.

"—As I say, it's only a suggestion, Arthur; a complete choice."

"What's a choice?" Ron asked, flopping down into the nearest chair and stripping himself of shoes.

Harry saw Ginny smirk as she said, "Well, you see, Ronald, a choice is when you have two different things and you simply have to pick one or the other."

"You know what I mean," Ron said, his ears turning red.

Harry and Mr. Weasley laughed. Kingsley smiled at Ginny, and then turned to Ron. "Actually, we were talking about you."

Ron coughed abruptly, surprised. "M-me?"

"Well," Kingsley hesitated, "The three of you, as well as Hermione and your other Hogwarts friends."

"Why?" Harry asked, "Is there something wrong?" He felt a crease grow between his eyebrows. He didn't want anything else to go disastrously awry.

Kingsley's smile deepened, dimples appearing on his cheeks. "No, no. We were just discussing something… Have a seat. We want to run a thought by you three."

Harry helped Ginny into a chair and then sat next to Ron. He folded his hands on the table and looked at Kingsley, waiting patiently.

Kingsley took a breath, and then addressed the three of them together. "I know that you're still coping with what happened at Hogwarts."

Ron stiffened. Ginny pressed her lips together, and her fingers drew into her palm. Harry was on the verge of uncurling them and folding them in his own when Kingsley continued.

"But… Arthur and I have been talking, as well as some others at the Ministry… And we want to let all of you know that you're welcome to become an Auror at the Ministry… Without any N.E.W.T.s."

Ron's face rapidly grew pink. Ginny gasped. Harry merely gaped at Kingsley, shocked.

Ron said, "But… But we won't have any experience… Harry, Hermione, and I are already a year behind."

Kingsley shook his head. "That doesn't matter to us. We'll make sure you're trained properly. There would have been no battle without the fighters. Who knows what kind of state we'd be in now? The Wizarding world owes it to you, to at least give each of you a chance."

Harry and Ron looked at each other. They both had cherished secret desires to become Aurors, and their excitement didn't fail to pass between them.

Kingsley stood, taking their glances for deliberation. "You don't need to give me a straight answer now. I was just letting you know that the offer stands."

He turned to Arthur. "Thank you for the tea, Arthur. I'll see you at work."

Kingsley vanished out the door, into the sunlit yard, and within seconds had Disapparated.

"What do you reckon?" Ron asked Harry later that day. They stood at the sink, peeling potatoes by hand for Mrs. Weasley, happy for an excuse to speak to each other alone.

Harry worried his bottom lip. "It's really tempting."

Ron nodded. "Yeah, it is. Why shouldn't we, though? If the offer's there, we should take it."

"Yeah… You weren't thinking about going back to school?"

"Well… Yes, I was." Ron paused, sprout in his left hand, peeler in the right. "But, now that this has come along… There's no reason, is there?"

"No, not really. Is there anything else that you were thinking of?"

"I…" Ron's ears went red. "I needed to… Ask if it was okay, really… But I thought about working in the joke shop with George. Now that Fred's…" His voice trailed away. He hurriedly went back to peeling the spud. "Anyway, it was only a thought. I only toyed with it. I think I'd really like to do this, though."

They were quiet for a moment. Ron said, "Why, were you thinking about going back?"

Harry hesitated. After a time, he said, "Yes, I was."

Ron looked at him. "Why? I thought you'd leap on this."

"I… Miss it." It wasn't necessarily a lie, but it wasn't the complete truth. Privately, Harry had been thinking about Ginny, and how he hated to leave her again. How he would really fancy long walks around the lake with her again, and deserted corridors late at night…

"I'll consider it," Harry finally said, "Obviously, it's what I've always wanted to do. But I need to think—ouch!"

He had sliced his hand with the knife. Scarlet was leaking into the sink, onto the freshly peeled potatoes.

"Oh, damn! The spuds. Bloody hell, that hurts."

"You go," Ron insisted, placing his peeler hurriedly on the counter and pointing his wand at the sink. The faucet began to run. "Go run it under the tap upstairs, get a bandage for it. I don't know how to heal with magic, and mum is out. She can fix it for you later."

Harry hastened, nabbing a napkin from the counter to avoid dripping blood onto the carpet. He climbed the rickety, wooden stairs that he loved and nudged his way into the bathroom with his hip. He quickly turned on the faucet and ran his bloody hand under the water. He couldn't help but notice that he had cut himself on the same hand, nearly a year ago, and how he had found it infuriating that he couldn't heal it with magic until he was of age. But then, he recalled, he had thought that it was no use because he didn't know how to heal minor injuries anyway. Ten months later, having been through hell and back, he still hadn't the faintest idea, and now thought that if he was going to do anything at the Ministry, including being an Auror, it was time that he found out how. He made a note to buy a book or to ask Mrs. Weasley.

It was odd, to him. How he had defeated Voldemort, finally, but still had thoughts similar to before. Ten months was, ultimately, a short span, but he had been so convinced that he would die in the process, that he had never stopped to consider what would happen after. Really, he hadn't had a chance to reflect on his life for the past year in a while, but in that moment, he thought of the Dursleys. That they must be safe back home and that Dudley was graduated from secondary school now. That he would be getting a job, and moving on with his life. Much like Harry was.

"Need some help?"

Harry jerked himself out of his thoughts to find water still running on his hand, and the cut stubbornly continuing to paint the sink scarlet. Ginny stood in the doorway, her hair pulled up into a lovely knot, looking damp. Harry noticed then that the shower behind him was wet, and that she must've just gotten dressed. Looking at her clothes, at her tank top and snug shorts, Harry found himself thinking about those curves again, and how he must've just missed her. How embarrassed he would've been to stumble in with a bleeding hand and find her with no clothes.

Thinking about Ginny with no clothes made his neck and ears feel rather hot, so he looked again at her face, into her eyes. She smiled at him, teeth white and even, gleaming, her chin slightly cocked downwards in coyness, displaying the side of her lovely neck.

Beautiful.

"Yes," he told her, shutting the water off, "I'm rubbish at this sort of thing."

She crossed the threshold, two steps away from him. She held out both hands for his injured one, and he showed her, palm up, the blood leaking slowly and surely, a horizontal line of red. Her eyebrows knit, and she looked up at him again. "It's awfully deep. What happened?"

Harry shrugged. "I was just careless while peeling some potatoes. I got out of there as quick as I could, I was worried I'd ruin them."

Ginny pushed his hand gently onto the counter, and then closed the bathroom door partly in order to reach the medicine cupboard beside the shower. What she required was on the top shelf, and she stretched, her fingertips barely reaching. Harry made to help her, but she said, "No, you stay right there. It's bleeding enough already."

Harry did as she said, not wanting to displease her, and instead took to watching her. Her slim body arched as she brushed boxes aside, both arms up. Her firm little bottom and hips flared from the small of her back, wonderfully round and looking delightfully soft. The heat extended into his face, and he lowered his gaze to her legs. They were lovely, a pale color, slim and dainty. She was a small thing when you really got to looking at her, but Harry knew that she couldn't fool anybody. Beneath the slender waistline, shapely legs, and graceful arms, was a lady that could pack more than a punch.

She found what she was looking for and lowered herself. Harry quickly moved his gaze back to her head. She turned around, and again smiled at him. He felt his stomach lurch.

She moved back to the counter and showed Harry what she'd found, merely some peroxide, a bandage, and soft white wrap. She said, "Dad always keeps a few Muggle things, just in case. This should do until mum gets back."

She rummaged in a drawer for a cotton ball, giving Harry another lovely view of her behind. He hastily looked toward the sink, noting that the water had washed away the blood.

When she straightened, she poured the peroxide on the cotton ball and placed it on Harry's hand. It stung for a moment, but he had expected it, and didn't find it particularly painful. As she moved to the bandage, Harry caught her scent. She smelled of flowers and of cleanliness. He closed his eyes briefly, enjoying her, but then opened them again when she faced him once more. She placed the bandage on his cut, and then tightly wrapped it in the white wrap, securing it with a safety pin.

"There you are," she said softly, looking at him through her lashes. "I hope it helps."

"Yes," he told her, barely breathing, "Thank you."

Could she sense the electricity between them, too? Was she thinking about them, like he was? Or was she thinking of him as he was of her? He opened his mouth to ask her what exactly she was thinking about, but she answered for him in a hurried mutter.

"Are you considering what Kingsley said?"

Taken aback, Harry took a moment to answer her. She waited for him to answer with wide eyes. He forced himself to think about her question and not their gorgeous color.

"Yes, I'm thinking about it."

He saw something flicker behind her eyes, and she said, "Oh."

Worried that he had hurt her, Harry quickly said, "I'm also considering school, though. Why?"

She licked her lips. Harry felt his blood pressure rise. She looked at him, and then tried to smooth things over by giving him a wide grin. "I just wanted to know if I'll have someone to tease at Quidditch practice again."

Not fooled, Harry said, "Would it bother you if I took Kingsley's offer?"

Her face fell. "Not… I don't…" She took a deep breath. "No, Harry. No. It's what you've always wanted to do. I wouldn't put it past you at all to want to take the opportunity. Do what makes you happy."

He shook his head. "I want to make you happy too."

She opened her mouth to respond, but then Ron's voice floated up the stairs. "Harry? Are you okay?"

Harry swallowed, and then called back, "Yeah, Ron! I'll be down in a moment."

They looked at each other, and Ginny said, "Go, it's okay. We can talk later."

Harry cupped the side of her face in his hand, his fingers tickling the area beneath her ear. He felt a small shiver go through her, and it was his turn to grin. "There are years to talk now, Ginny. We have the rest of our lives. I told you that if you need me, I'm always here. I always will be."

He squeezed her face softly, left the slightest trace of a kiss on her forehead, and exited the bathroom.

* * *

_The rest of their lives._

Ginny turned those words over and over in her head again as she stood where he left her, arms lightly folded, the tap still gently dripping behind her. There was a time, in the past year, that she had thought that he would never say that. That she would be left alone in the dark with no Harry to call her back. It had made her think what would happen to her, if he didn't come home. If she sank back into that dark hole that she had felt only once, during her first year at Hogwarts when she had experienced firsthand how cruel Voldemort could be.

She remembered the doubt that tore her apart. If she would quit living her life, or if she would move on as though he didn't mean as much to her as she thought. It had torn her apart. And there were times when not even Luna or Neville could console her.

But he _had_ come home. She had hugged him, in the Great Hall after he woke up, her heart singing so loudly that she was surprised that no one but she heard it. She had held him in her arms and had fought tears, happy to have him again. And in that hug, she knew that she would have died without him. That her head would have dipped back under the surface and that no one would have been able to pull her up.

And she realized she loved him.

Smiling to herself, Ginny shut the light off and left, walking downstairs towards the kitchen to heckle her brother, and definitely steal some looks at those lovely green eyes and thin, delightful chest.

_The rest of their lives._

* * *

**Okay! That's it for this chapter! There's more to come, definitely! I'm not sure how long this story is going to be, but I'm banking on quite a few chapters. I have an entire story to tell, still! X3**

**Please, please, please review. As I've said before, any advice or comments are always welcome. I hope that all of you have enjoyed! More to come soon! Review, please!**


	4. Red, Like Love

**Howdy! Welcome back to And All That Follows! I hope everyone is enjoying the story; I'm having **_**so**_** much fun. :D**

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**(if anyone got that last reference, you get a cookie. X3)**

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**Alright, here we go again! I don't own Harry Potter!**

4

"I'm taking the job."

Harry and Ron were alone in Ron's bedroom, Harry on the cot. Despite Mrs. Weasley's insistence that Harry take one of the now-unoccupied beds, Harry had chosen to stay with Ron. It just wouldn't feel right to him if he didn't stay here, and Ron agreed.

Ron rolled over onto his side, propping himself onto his elbow to look at Harry from across the room. Without his glasses, Harry only saw a fuzzy outline, red hair showing even in the dark.

"Yeah?" said Ron.

"Yeah," said Harry.

Ron looked into his face, and Harry thought maybe he was trying to ascertain if he was joking. When he read the seriousness, his face split into a grin.

"I'm taking it, too."

Kingsley was notified the following morning over breakfast through Floo powder. Harry was surprised to see that Mrs. Weasley approved of their decision. She had said, with a small sniff, "It's good that you boys are accepting this job. It's a good way to move on." She had given Harry a rather fierce hug, and then planted a sloppy kiss on Ron's cheek, but had then turned away, drying her eyes on her robes.

Harry was the one to speak to Kingsley through the fire. Ron had never done it, and though he was not as nervous about Floo powder as Harry sometimes was, had asked that Harry please do the communicating. Harry obliged by placing his head near the hot logs as Ron slipped him a pillow for his knees, to avoid the discomfort.

Harry took a pinch of Floo powder and threw it onto the fire. The flames gave a soft roar and turned a brilliant emerald. Harry, who was desperately trying not to inhale ash, said as clearly as he could, "Ministry of Magic, Minister's office." His head spun very quickly, and he felt the awful, splitting feeling of being in two places at once. After a few seconds of intense unpleasantness, his head righted itself again and he was staring at a handsome mahogany desk in a large, circular office. Kingsley was behind, writing on parchment with a quill, and looked up when he heard Harry appear. He smiled, and stood, crossing to the fireplace.

"Arthur said you were contacting me. Have you thought about my offer?"

"Yes," said Harry, the warm flames tickling his neck, "And so has Ron. We decided that we'll take you up on it."

Kingsley's smile widened to a grin. "That's wonderful, Harry!"

Harry smiled lightly, shrugging. "We both decided it was a good opportunity and we'd be mad not to take it."

The door to Kingsley's office opened and a blond witch poked her head in. "Mr. Minister? There's been another Death Eater capture."

"Wonderful," Kingsley said, turning his head to her, "Tell Hestia that I'll be down in just a moment."

The door closed, and Kingsley looked regretfully back to Harry. "I need to get going. But I'll come by and fill the two of you in on everything; we'll get you started."

Harry nodded once, said, "Thanks," and pulled his head back out of the fire to find himself in the Burrow kitchen once more.

"How'd it go?" Ron asked, leaping up from a chair and upsetting an empty butter dish. The china fell to the ground and shattered, but Ron lazily flicked his wand at it and said, "Reparo." The dish sprang back together and then hopped onto the table, as though nothing had happened.

Harry stood, brushing soot from his face. "It went fine. Kingsley couldn't stay, they'd just captured another Death Eater. He said that he'd drop by sometime soon and let us know how we proceed."

"Brilliant," Ron said, grinning lopsidedly. "I wonder when?"

"Dunno," Harry said, pulling a plate of eggs towards him, "He must be really busy, being the new Minister and all. I'm sure he'll find time to drop by for dinner, though."

Ron shoved aside his empty plate for the third time that morning and immediately reached for more sausages. He then asked Harry, "What day is it?"

Harry paused, egg halfway to his mouth. He counted in his head, and then said, "Wednesday… The second."

They looked at each other from across the table. Ron said, "A month."

Harry nodded and put his fork down, suddenly not hungry anymore.

* * *

Hermione returned a few evenings later. Ron, particularly, was incredibly happy to see her. She looked like she'd run into a little bit of trouble, but she also looked much, much happier.

Mrs. Weasley decided to cook a feast in honor of Hermione's return, and invited several of the remaining Order members for dinner. The Burrow, still its initial size from last summer, again couldn't hold the number of people eating, so once again, a canopy was resurrected in the yard to serve as a larger area. All of the Weasley brothers aside from Charlie arrived early, and helped put up the big, white canvas. George and Bill, in a fit of reminiscence and immaturity, took to clashing the long tables together, much to general amusement. This time around, Percy laughed himself silly from the sideline, while it was Mrs. Weasley who came to disband the fun.

"Out of your minds, and your sister nearly of age, ought to be setting a better example—"

Bill, having gotten his longer hair threatened for a trimming yet again, reluctantly halted the game. George, who had not been given an ultimatum, took to flinging small pebbles and other bigger things—like some curious gnomes—at Bill, hoping to egg him on into another round. Bill, his ears turning redder by the minute, stared forward and ignored him, lips set firmly.

The table outside was again protesting under the huge amount of food weighing it down, and of the amount of people grouped around. Harry was pleased to see several familiar faces, some that he hadn't spoken to in months, and gladly talked with them as he loosened his ever-tightening waistline. Among the present was Hagrid, having attained the far end of the table all to himself, Hestia Jones, Dedalus Diggle—who shook Harry's hand so often from across the table, that Harry could barely eat more than four or five bites at a time—and Andromeda Tonks with Teddy. At Harry, Hermione, and Ron's insistence, Luna Lovegood, Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, and Neville Longbottom were also present and accounted for. Harry thought that it was wonderful to speak with old friends again, and to catch up on what everyone was doing.

Dean and Seamus had decided to go back to Hogwarts for their seventh year, though they hadn't the faintest idea what they wanted to do yet. Luna was also going back, and had a thought as to what career she wanted, but wasn't saying. She sometimes exchanged looks with Ginny, Harry noticed, and vaguely wondered what was passing between them. Neville had announced that he would be taking Kingsley's offer to be Aurors with Harry and Ron, though he wasn't sure if he would like to do it permanently. And Hermione, after remaining oddly quiet all through dinner, announced over pudding that she, also, would be returning to Hogwarts. Ron had his mouth set in a funny way after hearing this, and met eyes with Harry. Harry shook his head as if trying to say, _It's her choice_.

When dinner was done, some people stood to depart. Hestia Jones, giving Harry a smile and thanking the Weasleys again, vanished outside the gate and departed. Dedalus Diggle—after beaming and thanking Harry through watery eyes for several more, slightly uncomfortable minutes—followed Hestia to the yard beyond the gate and also Disapparated. Hagrid left shortly after that, clapping Harry and Ron on the back together before leaving. Dean, Seamus, and Luna left together, waving at Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville all the way to the gate.

Harry left the other four for a few moments, and sauntered over to Andromeda. She looked exhausted, her thick, dark hair, graying in some places, her eyes shadowed with terrible bags. However, when Harry approached, she smiled at him with a much warmer, happier tone than he had ever seen on her. Harry thought that she must be healing, finally.

Teddy sat in her lap, looking at the world around him with wide, hazel-colored eyes. His hair was turquoise right now, but Harry was sure that it would change within second. When the infant saw Harry, his face broke into a wide grin, and he reached for Harry, with small little hands. Harry felt his heart melt.

"Hello, Andromeda," Harry said, sitting next to her, taking Teddy gently. Then, to his godson, "Hey, little buddy. I missed you."

Teddy waved his arms, his hair shifting to a sandy color, and Harry felt his smile grow.

"How are you?" Harry asked Andromeda as he began to bounce Teddy.

Andromeda shrugged her slight shoulders and said, "I'm doing okay, thank you, Harry."

Harry looked at his godson again, and said, "He's gotten much bigger."

"Two months, yesterday," Andromeda said, a wistful look on her face, "His healer at St. Mungo's says he's doing just fine, progressing very nicely. They told me he's a little small for his age, but that it isn't anything to worry about."

She paused for a moment, and then said, "Harry, I've been meaning to ask you something."

Harry looked at her, curious. "Anything."

Andromeda said, "Would you mind watching Teddy every couple of days? I know that you were planning on staying here for most of the summer, so I thought it was a nice idea. You get to visit him, and he can be off my hands for a few hours. I'm trying to get back to my job at the Ministry, but obviously I can't do that with a baby around."

"I'd be happy to," Harry said, slightly nonplussed. "I'd love to."

Andromeda smiled, and she visibly relaxed. "Thank you, Harry. I was worried that you would say no. I know that you don't have any experience with children, but I thought this would be a nice opportunity."

"Is Mrs. Weasley fine with it?" Harry lent Teddy his left pointer finger, and Teddy gripped it in his small, strong fist.

"Oh yes, I spoke to her over dinner. You know her, she's been doting on him every chance she's gotten. I didn't see that as any sort of problem."

Teddy gave a small whimper, and Harry looked back to him. Teddy was eyeing Harry with large, watery eyes, and his lower lip had begun to jut out.

"Uh, oh," said Andromeda, reaching out her arms for the baby. Harry gave Teddy back, and Teddy's lip came out further. "He's tired. He's about to go into the fussy stage and he won't stop crying until he manages to fall asleep. It's time for us to go."

Harry gave Teddy one wide, large grin, and Harry thought that maybe the sad look lessened in his godson's face. Harry waved a hand, and said, "Bye, little man. I'll see you soon."

From across the yard, Harry heard a yell and spun around to see George clutching his head, though he couldn't conceal his rapidly growing eyebrows, the hair so thick that it appeared as if he had a beard on his forehead. Harry and the majority of the guests roared with laughter, while Bill stood a few yards from George, wand in hand, and a satisfied smile on his face.

* * *

Everyone else had left. Ron and Hermione had walked away after saying goodbye to Neville, whispering to each other, and Harry decided it was best to not call after them, and to leave them alone. Mrs. Weasley had gone to bed, exhausted after cleaning up the large mess, and Mr. Weasley, having seen this as an advantage, had snuck away into his workshop to tinker with something or other. Harry and Ginny were entirely alone in the parlor room, a fire dancing in the fireplace, the room warm and comfortable.

Ginny lay with her feet curled beneath her, leaning on Harry's chest. Harry had his arm around her, gently, aware, as he often was when he held her, of how small she was. They hadn't spoken since they'd sat down together, but Harry didn't mind. He was happy to hold her and to enjoy her company and warmth.

After a time, Ginny said, "Harry?"

Harry looked down at her, and she looked up at him. She opened her mouth and then closed it, on the verge of speech. Finally, she said, "Can we talk now?"

Harry shifted so that he could see her more clearly, and said, "Yes, we can talk. What's on your mind?"

She bit her lip. "I want you to understand that I'm not unhappy you're taking the job. I'm very happy for you. I…" She seemed to try and decide what she wanted to say. Finally, "I just want you to know that I'm going to miss you."

Harry nodded, and brushed away a strand of red hair that had fallen into her eyes. "I know you will. I'm going to miss you too." He swallowed, and then said, "There's a reason I didn't leap on the chance, Ginny. Why I didn't accept as soon as it was proposed in the kitchen."

Her eyes widened slightly. She looked at him, waiting to hear what he had to say.

"I thought about you," he said, "And how I didn't want to leave you again. I tried to think of what you were feeling, and I chose to consider that, too. I don't want to do anything that will upset you. If you think that I shouldn't take it, or if it upsets you, then you need to tell me."

She shook her head. "No. I'm not upset. I'm just going to miss you… But even if you chose to come back to school with me, I'd miss you there, too. The few times of day when we wouldn't be able to be together, I'd get that feeling…" She trailed off, the picked back up, "I won't stop you from doing what you love and what you've always wanted. That isn't right of me."

Harry looked at her. Her eyes were dancing in the dim light, large in her face, but also full of conviction. He knew that she wouldn't give up her stance on this. That she'd force him to take the job, even if he had told Kingsley no instead of yes, because that's who she was. Remarkably selfless, she wasn't going to give up his happiness for her own.

"I won't sacrifice your happiness, either," Harry said, "I know that you need to finish school to be a Chaser. I won't ask you to stay behind with me. You need to go, and I need to stay. That's all there is to this."

She nodded, and then said, "We'll see each other on holidays."

Harry smiled. "And I'll come visit you on Hogsmeade weekends. We'll make it work, Ginny. We've done it before."

Ginny moved closer to him, shifting. The curve of her waist met his hand, just slightly, and it stole his breath for a moment. He forced himself to keep his eyes on her, and to not wander down.

She looked up into his face, the ghost of a smile on her lips. Her long, dark lashes fluttered, and she whispered, "Does this mean you want to try again?"

Harry moved his hand from her waist to her fingers and gripped them in his own. "Of course I do, Ginny."

They looked at each other, sharing unspoken things. Harry drank her in, again remembering how he hadn't been able to remember all of her details; the exact amount of freckles on her nose, the exact shade of her hair, her small nose and the curve of her wonderful, wonderful eyes. He realized, in that moment more than any other, how much he had missed her, and how happy he was to be with her again. How, even though they were branching onto separate paths again, it would only be for a small space of time. How, this time next summer, they could be sitting not in this parlor room, but their own… And this idea gripped Harry so fiercely and suddenly, that his heart stopped for just a moment as he thought of he and Ginny, alone, in their own home and not another's. How they could be together every evening and nearly every weekend. Cook with each other, laugh with each other, and kiss without worry of being seen…

He swallowed, and moved his hand from her fingers, up her arm. He felt her shiver, her eyes widening and darkening. He halted on the side of her neck, their mouths not moving, but their eyes having a long, sharp conversation. His eyes asked her permission, and her eyes asked him what took him so long. He leaned forward, inches from her. She caught her breath, haltingly, and closed her eyes, waiting. Harry thought that as long as he lived, he would never see another person so beautiful.

When their lips met, lights danced behind Harry's closed eyes. Not greens, blues, or yellows, but red. Red, like his face. Red, like the blood pounding in his ears. Red, like her glorious hair.

Red, like love.

It was sweet. So, so sweet. The most wonderful, most gentle kiss that they'd ever shared and the most powerful that Harry had ever experienced. Her mouth moved with his, slowly, and he felt himself wondering at himself as to how he had ever given this up. How could he have left someone this precious to him? How could it have taken so long for him to call her back and to feel her again? She tasted lovely, of something delicate that he had missed so badly that his chest ached upon reunion. Her lips were soft, moving perfectly with his, as though they had been made and wired and destined for each other. He moved his hands, cupping both cheeks with shaking fingers. He didn't want to stop. Didn't want to move. Wanted to stay forever and ever with her, and her sweetness, and her lips.

_Ginny. His Ginny_. So fierce and fiery and confident, but who tasted like honey and had soft, velvet skin and beautiful, chocolate eyes. Who put everyone before herself. Who could jinx anyone in her path. Who could catch any Quaffle and dodge any Bludger. Who had kept Dumbledore's Army going without his help or any other's. Who he had watched crumble and come back to life. Who meant more to him than any Firebolt or wand, who was the entire reason that he had wanted to come home during those long, long months. Who he knew the best, and who in turn knew him the best. Who he loved more than anything in the world.

_Ginny._

He pulled away, panting for air. He watched her eyes flutter open, slowly, watched the pink in her face spread from her cheeks to her small neck. She gave him a lopsided smile, her eyes dancing with the flames flickering in the fireplace.

_Ginny._

"I love you," he whispered, forehead against hers, thumbs brushing the skin beneath her eyes. "I love you."

He knew what a big step he'd taken. That he'd said out loud what they'd never said before. They he would never be able to call the words back even in he wanted to. That he had crossed that first, invisible line between them, and that many more would come.

He could feel her heart pounding in her face. Saw in her eyes that what he'd said was exactly what she needed to hear. That she loved him back with every part of her soul and being.

"I love you too."

It was the most glorious, beautiful sound that he'd ever heard. His breath caught in his throat, and he smiled. He moved one hand to the back of her neck, behind her soft hair, and one, unspoken word passed between them as they lay together once again.

_Forever._

* * *

**Thank you for reading! As always, please, please review! I will have the next chapter up as soon as I can! :D**

**Thanks so much! **


	5. Looking Forward

**Welcome back, friends! Thank you for continuing the reads, reviews, and favorites. It means so much to me. Your support is so awesome. :3**

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**Friends, thank you for sticking with me. I know that it's dull, I'm going to try and keep things moving. As I've said before, I'm trying to stick with what my gut tells me. I know that the story is very dry, but I'm trying my hardest. I wouldn't feel right writing other fanfics before I write this one; I promise my others won't be nearly so dull. XD**

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**Anyway, let's keep going! Thank you for reading. As always, I don't own Harry Potter. And, also, as always, please review! Thanks so much!**

5

Kingsley found time to stop by the Burrow shortly after Hermione's return. Darkening the doorstop with a long shadow, he could only linger for a few moments. He looked more tired than Harry had ever seen him, but also happy.

"Things are looking up," Kingsley said, accepting a quick cup of tea from Mrs. Weasley, "The Departments are organized again, the school is rebuilt, and people are moving on with their lives. The only problem is the remaining Death Eaters."

"What about Azkaban?" Hermione asked him, "Is that rebuilt, too?"

Kingsley nodded, taking a long sip of tea before responding. "Yes, but we're not allowing the Dementors free reign anymore. There are wizards on duty at all times. Merlin knows we need another mass breakout on our hands, so shortly after all this mess."

"How many Death Eaters are left?" Harry asked, his hand holding Ginny's under the table.

"Several have been rounded up and are awaiting trial. Some people aren't Death Eaters, but assisted them. Then, there are some that we have deemed were lying about being Imperiused or held for blackmail, so they've fled and need to be rounded up; also, you have the very, very few still out there that are trying to organize the Dark Wizards again. Those, above all, need to be stopped."

He fixed an eye on Harry and Ron, and said, "I'm glad that you've decided to do this, boys. We really need you right now." He leaned back in his chair, looking at the ceiling as if asking for a solution to his problems, and then flicked back to Harry and Ron. "Come in with Arthur tomorrow, and we'll start you boys off. I don't think you'll begin with actual work until the end of the summer, but you'll need the time to train and practice. The both of you are already in a pretty fit state, but there are some things that you don't understand."

Kingsley smiled, and said, "I suggest reading up on Potions."

He drained the last of his tea and handed the empty cup back to Mrs. Weasley. "Thank you, Molly. I need to get going, though."

He stood, and once again vanished outside the back door, Disapparating with a small _pop_.

* * *

"Are these jeans too scruffy?" Ron asked Harry the next morning, the sky outside barely painted pink. "I don't want them to think I'm some kind of slob."

Harry picked at his t-shirt self-consciously. "I wish we had robes to wear over these Muggle clothes."

"Yeah," Ron said, "But the only ones we have are Hogwarts and dress robes. Think, what big of prats we would look like, waltzing into the Ministry, one of us in dress robes, the other looking like he's off to school again." He faked a gallant bow. "'Excuse me, ma'am, I've lost the way to my Common Room, could you point me in the right direction. Or, perhaps, to the ballroom, there's a dance my mate's been invited to.' They'd laugh themselves silly."

Harry chortled as he laced his trainers, deciding that Ron was going to make this worth it, even if he hated working as an Auror.

Downstairs at breakfast, Mrs. Weasley was shoving nearly every edible thing within her wand's reach onto the already-crammed table. Hermione was cowering in the corner, a small plate picked clean in front of her, looking rather alarmed at the amount of food being shoved in front of her face. Ron and Harry, not entirely too nervous, ate to their heart's content, Ginny right beside them. She amused Harry for a few moments by performing an impression of Ron doing a jinx wrong and getting his wand stuck up his nose, before Mrs. Weasley abruptly put a stop to it.

Around a mouthful of kipper, Harry said, "I thought it was rather funny, Gin."

She smiled at him, teeth miraculously clear of food. "He'll be angry with me now, you watch. I'll have to make fun of you at dinner if I want to get back into his good books."

As she predicted, Ron had oddly missed her in the goodbyes as he, Harry, and Mr. Weasley prepared to leave.

Squeezing Ginny's hand, Harry said, "I'll be back for supper. Maybe I'll find a present to bring you."

She grinned. "As long as it's not a broken arm."

Mr. Weasley usually Apparated to work, and not wanting to be an inconvenience, Harry and Ron had agreed. After feeling the usual suffocating compression, and the immense relief of arriving, Ron and Harry arrived at the Ministry.

It was different than the one from Harry's less memory. The structure of the building, the black marble, glassy floors, and myriad amounts of people were the same, but the place had a brighter feeling to it. The 'Magic is Might' statue was gone, as was the statue that had originally been placed there. Instead, was a monument in the middle of the Atrium, a large wall of white stone, that had the name of every wizard, witch, elf, and goblin that had died in the Second War. Harry beamed at it as he passed, thinking it was a lovely tribute, though he couldn't suppress the pang of sadness that came over him briefly.

Mr. Weasley led the way into the clanging lifts. The boys were squished against the far wall as more witches and wizards piled in behind them. Some nodded to Harry and Ron, giving them approving, grateful looks, and others went so far as to reach across the elevator's other inhabitants and shake their hands. Harry, who was used to this, smiled politely and accepted their thanks, while Ron looked so taken aback that it was on the verge of rudeness.

When they exited the lift at level two, Ron had an expression appropriate to having been clubbed upside the head.

It was not Kingsley who met them in the middle of the Auror headquarters, but Hestia Jones, looking somber in black robes buttoned to her neck. "Alright, boys?" she asked, as they approached. And then, to Mr. Weasley, "I think I've got them, Arthur; are you sure you can't stay?"

Mr. Weasley shook his head. "No, I have a report to work on with Perkins, wrapping up that whole nasty business during the War. I wish I could stay though." Mr. Weasley looked at Harry and Ron, smiling. "I'll meet you back at the Burrow."

He flounced away, robes swishing, back to the lofts.

Harry and Ron looked back toward Hestia, and she said, "Come with me, I'll show you around."

She led them around a corner and into the cubicles that Harry remembered from his last visit on this floor. There were several ones all grouped in one section, each over filling with paperwork. The only difference from three years ago was that Sirius had been taken off of the walls, replaced with several Death Eaters, most of which Harry didn't recognize. They didn't seem to be as powerful, brutal looking as the ones who were unfortunately familiar to him.

Hestia explained that these meek ones were now seeking positions of power, and were giving them the most trouble. Most had been new to the Dark Wizard business when Voldemort fell, and now fancied themselves hard criminals. They were easy to round up, but were stirring the peace that the Wizarding World had finally won, and were a huge nuisance.

When they finished touring the various cubicles and spaces in the Auror Headquarters, they went back to where they began to find Kingsley waiting. He beamed at them as they approached, asking, "Ready to go? We can take you downstairs and introduce you to some others."

Harry, Ron, and Hestia followed Kingsley to the lift, and they climbed in alone.

Kingsley said, "We're going to start your training as soon as we can, but I think all that we'll do today is an assessment of your skills."

Ron flushed next to Harry, and Harry looked at his feet. He didn't feel like he had any particular talent, and if he was asked to brew a potion, he might as well just leave now.

"Don't worry," Kingsley said, "It'll be fine. They're not going to pick you apart, I promise."

The lift clattered to a halt in the Atrium. Kingsley again took the lead, followed by Harry and Ron, with Hestia bringing up the rear. He led them to a larger chamber off the main hallway, past what looked to be a small lunch area, and through a large door with a small plaque on the outside marked 'Training'.

Looking inside, Harry thought it looked similar to an indoor gymnasium, only for Wizards. There were stuffed dummies with targets painted on various vital body parts, as well as hoops that looked to be for shooting spells through, and stations for potions off to the far right. Here, a handful of witches and wizards were doing magic, some dueling each other, others practicing spells on test dummies and brewing potions. Looking at them all, Harry felt a knot of nerves form in his stomach. He didn't recognize any of the spells that were being performed, and all of them were doing it wordlessly.

Upon their arrival, most of the practicing wizards took notice and sauntered over to say hello. All of them were older adults, it seemed, though Harry could pick out just a few spare younger ones. Harry counted seven in all, four of which he recognize; Elphias Doge, Dedalus Diggle, Emmeline Vance, and Sturgis Podmore. Harry was happy to see Sturgis, as last that he'd heard from him, he was in Azkaban serving a sentence for trespass. Elphias rang Harry's hand enthusiastically in his own, and Harry thought that it was also good to see him, too. Privately, he was surprised that Elphias was still on the Auror team, being so old, but decided it was not his place to question it.

The Aurors he did not recognize were quickly introduced to him, though he knew that he was going to struggle to remember their names. None of them, he noted, looked at him with any sort of arrogance or condescension. On the contrary, most told him what an honor it was to meet him; Harry would have found this rather uncomfortable, except that they told Ron the same thing. Ron, evidently not used to this kind of attention, quickly flushed again and gave each of them a nervous grin.

Kingsley was quick to the point with the Aurors. He decided that he would test Harry and Ron separately, assuring them that there was no pressure and to just do their best. Now that Harry knew for certain these Aurors were better, more skilled, and highly more efficient than he, Harry didn't feel as nervous. They weren't expecting anything extraordinary. He heeded Kingsley's advice, and tried to remain as relaxed as possible.

It was very similar to his O.W.L. exams, except he had been paired with Kingsley to do a 'friendly duel' and was instructed by Hestia. His first request was a disarming spell, which Harry did quite easily, catching Kingsley off his guard in a second. Feeling slightly more confident, Harry then proceeded to do a stunning spell on one of the dummies, a banishing spell, a shield charm, and then a Patronus; basic magic that Harry felt reasonably comfortable with.

Harry could hear the other Aurors chatting excitedly behind him, and vaguely wondered why. He didn't think that he was doing anything out of the ordinary.

Harry was then asked to switch with Ron. As he traded, the Aurors applauded, and Harry's face felt horribly hot. He gave Ron a smile and a thumbs up as he passed, and Ron smiled back, looking as though he was going to be sick. Harry silently cursed Ron's always present, terrible nerves.

Ron did just as well as Harry did, and also got applause upon completing the assessment. To Harry's relief, they weren't asked to do Potions just yet; a lunch break was called for, and everyone began to leave the training area together.

"That was very, very good, boys," Hestia said as she walked over to Harry with Ron. "Most of the young witches and wizards who try to be Aurors aren't as talented as you two. You'll do just fine here."

Harry and Ron grinned at each other, and they were both aware of the intense relief that each of them felt.

* * *

As soon as Harry and Ron returned home that evening with Mr. Weasley, they were bombarded with questions by Ginny, Hermione, and Mrs. Weasley.

"How did it go?"

"Did you get Stunned at all?

"Come sit down. Have you been on your feet all day?"

Harry and Ron were happy to answer all of the questions over dinner, assuring the three women that everything had gone just fine, that Kingsley said they were doing reasonably well, and that they were to go back every few days. Harry and Ron deposited the books that they had been given to study from, and Hermione, still eating dinner, cracked one open and began to read immediately with a hurry that was almost indecent.

Over dessert, Harry locked eyes with Ginny, and she jerked her head towards the back door. Harry shook his head, just slightly, and looked upstairs with his eyes. Understanding, Ginny nodded, and communicated for him to leave first.

Harry excused himself to go get changed out of his Muggle clothes, and climbed the big staircase to his and Ron's bedroom. He did end up changing, but when Ginny didn't arrive, he climbed back down a few flights and knocked on her door.

She opened it within second, the light from the hallway spilling onto her face. She gave him a wide smile and opened the door further, inviting him in.

Ginny's room was lit generously by a light beside her bed, which Harry was grateful for. He secretly thought that it would have been awkward for both of them if it had been dark. She wore a simple dressing gown that reached her knees, and her hair was tucked behind her head in a braid. Harry wondered if she had dressed particularly carefully because she knew he would be here.

He was suddenly aware of his silly checkered pants and simple white shirt.

Ginny closed the door gently behind her, and no more than three seconds later, she was hugging him around the middle, her face buried in his chest. Harry put his hand in her hair, the other holding her back.

"I missed you," he said.

"I missed you too."

She looked up into his face and smiled again. Harry, thinking that it was wonderful she was smiling so much, brushed the side of her face with his fingertips, looking at her. It had felt like an eternity since he'd seen her, and he had the vague worry that he was going to be on the verge of depression when she went back to school.

He bent down and kissed her. A tingling rush immediately went from the center of his stomach all the way to his fingers tips, and he tensed as he held her, feeling slightly weak. Just as he was about to get lost in her, she pulled away, stopping him. He noticed that she was out of breath, and her cheeks were a high red. He wasn't sure what he had done to make her lose her composure so easily, but she shook her head, and said, in a rather high voice, "It's not you... I..." She blushed more deeply, and stared at him for a few more awkward moments. Harry, completely puzzled, looked at her long and hard. Her gaze kept drifting back to her bed, and she shifted from foot to foot, nervously. It dawned on Harry what had her so agitated, and he felt his face immediately ignite with heat. He grinned nervously at her to let her know he understood, and backed up a few paces to give her some air.

_Stupid hormones._

Trying to get things back to normal, she looked in his eyes, still very red, and smiled lightly. "So you enjoyed it?"

Harry nodded slowly. "Yes, I liked it very much. As I said, they were all very polite and kind to me. It was nice. I was really worried."

Ginny shook her head. "I wasn't. You're the Boy Who Lived. They'd be fools if they were mean to you, particularly if Kingsley is around."

Harry snickered, moving towards her bed and sitting down. He patted the spread next to him, and gave her an assuring look when she hesitated. "It's alright. We won't do anything more if you're uncomfortable in here." She bit her lip, but then stepped forward and stepped next to him. Trying to smooth this over, Harry then said "They're going to pay me a lot."

Ginny raised an eyebrow, obviously trying to regain her footing. "Oh yes? How much?"

He took a deep breath. " Fourteen thousand galleons a year."

Ginny sputtered. "W-what?"

"Yeah." Harry shrugged. "I tried to tell Kingsley no, but he refused. Nearly shouted me down. You should've seen Ron's eyes, they got so wide." He chuckled. "So I'm going to be living very comfortably."

He hesitated, and then said, "I think I may buy a flat after you go to school."

"Just for you?" She looked mildly surprised, as though she hadn't expected this.

"No, for you and I… Eventually." He looked at her and gave her a coy smile. "If you want it, that is."

She blushed. Harry secretly thought this was a wonderful achievement on his part, as she rarely blushed and was rarely speechless like now. She looked at him with an open mouth, and Harry started to back out. "If you want to, I mean. I know that we just recently… I just wanted to let you know that the offer was there…"

He trailed off, rather angry with himself. But Ginny's face suddenly lit up like a firefly, and she said, "No, of course, Harry, I'd love to. You just surprised me, that's all."

She put her head on his neck, and he held her, savoring her warmth and the smell of her skin. He couldn't wait to fall asleep with her every night, and to hold her when he wanted to, and to experience his life with her. He was looking forward to it more than anything else in his life at that moment, even more than his new career as an Auror.

He kissed the top of her head, and rubbed her arm, once more saying, "I love you."

He felt her smile against his skin, and a small shiver of delight ran up his spine. He could really get used to saying that. And to feeling those little shivers.

**Thank you for reading! Sorry for the later update, I was writing this all evening. I hope I did the Aurors right… My sources are from the Harry Potter wiki and Order of the Phoenix. XD **

**Please review, everyone! Hope you enjoyed. **


	6. The Biggest Difference

**Okay… So this is my update from February: Welcome back! I'm so, so, sorry that I haven't updated in the past few weeks. There was a death in my family, and we went through a lot; it was hard to get back into things. So, I'm very sorry that I haven't been here and haven't updated. I should be able to keep my regular update schedule once more now. **

**Okay, so as always, I want to thank every single one of you that reviewed! And the good news is, there was so many of you this time, that I don't really think I can list them all here without boring everyone to death! XD So thank you, thank you, thank you, a million times over, to each and every one of you. I so much appreciate the support and the advice and the feedback. Keep it up, you guys are so amazing. I love you all!**

**And here's my update now: I AM SOOOOOOOOOOOO SORRY YOU GUYS. I just wanted to get that out there. I'm not going to make excuses, my absence cannot be forgiven. I just wanted to let all my readers know that I still love you guys, and I'm still here. It feels so wonderful to finally update. I've missed you guys so much. **

**I just got accepted at a University, so I hope things are going to quiet down a little for me, now that I've finally crossed that hurdle. Such a relief. So I'm going to write like crazy whenever I can to make up for my months of leave. Again, I'm so sorry. I'll try my hardest to stick to the story now. I hope I haven't made anybody angry.**

**Thank you, by the way, if you haven't given up on me. XD**

**Alright, we shall plow onwards then. :3 I don't own Harry Potter, that's J.K. Rowling's, bless her creative and wonderful heart. :D**

**Thank you so much!**

6

Auror training was going incredibly well, in Harry's opinion, and he was glad to be doing something that he had longed to do for a good while. Though he had sustained minor injuries during the extensive dueling that he took part in daily—Dedalus Diggle continued to apologize any chance that he got—he was really immensely enjoying himself. He and Ron had yet to actually get into the field, though they didn't mind; they were learning loads together, and were really savoring the progress they were making.

In addition to the Auror training every three or four days, Harry's time was split evenly between Ginny, Ron and Hermione, studying and Teddy Lupin. True to his word, on the days Harry wasn't under the eye of Kingsley, he was spending time with his godson. The first few times had been a bit of a stress; Andromeda was suffering from severe separation anxiety, and Harry thought it rather funny that Teddy only whimpered for a few minutes before moving on with his day. The first time she dropped him off, Andromeda lingered at the kitchen table with Molly—her hands shaking so badly that they rattled her teacup—for over an hour before making a teary departure.

Harry really enjoyed spending time with Teddy. He was growing quickly, and though he couldn't walk or talk yet, was already a handful. He cooed to his heart's content, especially when Harry was near, as though trying to impress him, and would happily roll or try to crawl. He had to be under a constant eye, as he was prone to bump his head and then would not calm down for hours at a time. Then, he needed to be fed a bottle every three or four hours, and would get crabby when it was closer to feeding time. Though he had yet to stay the night, Harry was exhausted just by watching the little boy for a few hours at a time.

The thing Harry liked most about spending time with Teddy was watching Ginny dote over him. She was absolutely wonderful with the child. When he had a tummy ache, she could make him stop crying, even though Harry had tried for hours. She didn't say a word of complaint when Teddy would grab her hair or clothes. She could make him smile no matter what and always spoke to him in a soft, gentle voice that made Harry grin every time. Their future, always in the back of Harry's mind nowadays, came to the forefront of his thoughts when he watched her with the baby.

With training, Teddy, Ginny, and studying on his schedule, June and most of July went right over Harry's head. Before he knew it, he was being cornered in the hallway by Mrs. Weasley, a basket of laundry at her feet, and asked what he would like for his birthday.

"Nothing," he told Mrs. Weasley firmly, "I've said it every year. I hate to make you go through all the trouble."

"I've told you every year," Mrs. Weasley countered with a smile, "It's no trouble at all. Would you like a dinner? Shall we have some friends over?"

"Please, just as it was last year." Even asking her for this caused him a strike of pain. "No fuss; it isn't a huge deal at all."

"Of course it is," Mrs. Weasley scoffed, "Don't feed me that nonsense. We'll do it just as we did last year; except, perhaps, without the Minister of Magic appearing at our back gate uninvited." She patted his cheek and walked away, the laundry basket tucked firmly between her arms.

Harry woke up on the day of his birthday to find Ron absent from their room. He looked at the clock on the nightstand beside his cot, and noticed that he had slept in a little later than usual. Ron must've decided not to wait and had gone down to breakfast.

As he dressed, Harry decided that he didn't feel any different. He was still Harry. Things had changed for the better in the year since his last birthday, but he didn't feel as though _he_ had changed. Ginny had told him he was taller, but his hair was now the normal length. He had learned important lessons during the Second War that he kept under a strict lock very close to his heart. He wondered if he would ever share those last secrets with anybody, even Ron, Hermione, or Ginny.

Maybe one day; but not today.

Dressed in simple jeans, shoes, and a t-shirt, he headed downstairs to the kitchen. Mr. Weasley was absent, having left for work, but the others were there, sitting beside a small pile of presents stacked neatly in a pyramid. As soon as he walked in, Mrs. Weasley jumped to her feet and hurried around the table to give him a hug.

"Happy birthday, dear." She smiled at him with twinkling eyes. Harry hadn't noticed until now that gray hair had seeped into her temples, but it didn't hinder her appearance. She looked like the same Mrs. Weasley he loved. He returned her smile, and said "Thank you."

He sat between Hermione and Ron, Hermione nearly bouncing with excitement. "Oh, happy birthday, Harry! I hope you like what I got you! It took me ages to find!"

Harry selected her parcel first, one wrapped in nice blue paper. He discovered it was a book, entitled **Fifty Easy Ways for the Beginning Auror** by Gavian Buxtrail. Harry's smile widened as he opened it, finding chapters dedicated to preparing him for the field, as well as a whole number of jinxes and charms that he wasn't familiar with that were definitely going to come in handy.

"Wow, this is brilliant!" Harry told her, giving her a hug with one arm. "Thanks, Hermione!"

She beamed at him. "Flourish and Blotts don't carry it, so I had to write to a whole number of people to find you a copy. It seemed so convenient. I hope you like it."

Ron said, "Hope you'll let me borrow that when you're through with it, mate." He slid an orange package from the pile. "This is from mum and dad."

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had gotten him a new set of robes in plain black to wear at the Ministry. Harry was glad, as now he didn't need to wear his Muggle clothes, and he needed a plain set anyway. In addition to the robes, Mrs. Weasley had made him a tray of miniature mince pies. Harry thanked her dozens of times, and she just waved him off with a "It's nothing, Harry."

Ron then said, "This is from Fred and George," and handed him a large package of Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans stacked beneath a package of Chocolate Frogs. Ron continued, "Wait here, and let me go get you your gift from me and Ginny."

Ron left, and Harry looked at Ginny quizzically. She merely smiled at him mischievously.

Ron returned only seconds later, accompanied by a faint hoot.

Harry wheeled around in his seat to find himself looking at a lovely owl. It was handsome, a medium size, with brown feathers and large amber eyes. It didn't look to be very old, either.

"You shouldn't have," Harry said automatically as he stood to accept the cage, "That's too much money."

Ron grinned. "As soon as we said it was for you, they gave us half price. It was no trouble, mate."

Harry, who had been missing Hedwig very much since her death, couldn't talk past the hard lump developing in his throat, but only looked at the new owl with a fondness that he could only convey with his eyes. The owl looked him with a content expression, and hooted in hello.

Harry thought they were going to get along just fine.

At Harry's insistence, the day went along normally. Mrs. Weasley stayed inside and tidied for the party that night, while the four friends tromped along outside. They played a little Quidditch, and then had a swim in the pond. The only part Harry disliked about that was when Ginny and Ron had a contest to hold their breath, and Ginny scared the daylights out of the older three when she used a bubble head charm and swam to the bottom of the pond and waited. It took Harry a few minutes to entirely forgive her.

The day passed quickly, and soon Harry was greeting Mr. Weasley at the back gate and dinner was starting. Bill and Fleur were present, as well as Andromeda, Teddy, and Hagrid. A few presents had been added to the small amount Harry already had. From Bill and Fleur, he had received a cleaning kit for the watch he had been given last year; from Andromeda, some Honeydukes chocolate; and from Hagrid, a hello from Witherwings, also known as Buckbeak, and a large platter of homemade rock cakes. Harry made a note to feed them to Crookshanks, though the animal was probably a little too smart to eat Hagrid's cooking.

This year, Harry's birthday cake was round, with scarlet and gold icing for Gryffindor. It was delicious, and everyone at the table greatly enjoyed it. After cake, Bill and Fleur left, Fleur complaining of feeling ill. Hagrid, also, took his leave, but Andromeda and Teddy stayed, giving Harry time to play with the child as Andromeda chatted with Mrs. Weasley.

After a few minutes of sitting on the rug with his godson, Harry gave Hermione and Ginny some time with the baby and pulled Ron to the side.

"I need to ask you something, and I don't want you to get the wrong idea."

Ron looked at him with a measuring expression. "I don't like the sound of that. What's on your mind?"

Harry took a deep breath. "I want to go out with Ginny tomorrow. Alone."

"Oh." Ron visibly relaxed. "That's fine with me, mate. I don't see why you're getting me all worked up."

"No, see... That's not all." Harry swallowed. "Now, don't fly off the handle, because it isn't like this, I'm just having a poke around… I thought that, since I'll be out tomorrow anyway… I might, if something catches my eye… Look at a flat."

"A flat?" Ron tilted his head to the side, thinking. "You mean… Like a _flat_, flat? As in, a place to live?"

"Yes."

Ron's ears turned red. "With my sister."

"See, it isn't like that," Harry quickly assured him, "It's just… I'll be out anyway. We'll be in London, and I need to look around. She… Won't be… _Staying_ with me, obviously, but she'll just be _there_. You know what I mean? Her opinion will be nice to have…"

Harry floundered into silence. Ron wasn't giving him a death glare, but he seemed to be thinking it over. After a stretch, Ron finally said "I thought we were going to be roommates?"

"I was getting to that," Harry said, relieved. Indeed, they had discussed it and had agreed to room together. "I thought, maybe you would like to meet us somewhere for ice cream or something, and then we'll look at what I found, the three of us. Or, four, if you want to bring Hermione."

"Oh, I understand… You want to take Ginny out the two of you, and then look at flats later… Okay. Yeah. If you find one with just her, then… As long as I have a look at it too. I mean…" Ron took a breath. "I mean, we're adults, right? We can handle this. I shouldn't… I mean, unless something goes wrong with you two or, you know, something… Happens… I should just… Back off." Ron seemed to struggled with the words, and practically had to spit them out. "I'm fine… With you guys. Just… Don't do anything… _Stupid._"

"I promise," Harry told him, feeling as though he had just navigated through a field of Blast Ended Skrewts. "I.. Thanks, mate. Thanks a lot."

Ron snorted. "Smart, you are. Bringing this up on your birthday. I think any other day of the year, I might have jinxed you to jelly and not been sorry."

Later, Harry caught Ginny alone before she turned in for bed. He hugged her and smiled into her hair. "Hi."

"Happy birthday."

"Thanks, Ginny."

Still holding her, Harry said, "How would you like to go to London with me tomorrow?"

"London?" Ginny pulled away, looking up at him through puzzled eyes. "What for?"

"Well…" He grinned, embarrassed. "I thought, maybe, we'd like to take some time for ourselves… Maybe take a walk through a park and catch some lunch… Take a small trip to Diagon Alley… And I need to look at flats."

"Really?" Her eyes sparkled in the dark like stars. "And you want me to go with you?"

"Yes. It won't be just the two of us all day. For you to come with me, I had to propose to Ron that we meet up with him and Hermione to show him what we found to see if he likes them, since he'll be staying with me, too."

"It sounds wonderful." She grinned at him. "I can't wait."

He kissed her forehead. "I haven't really thought about what we'll do. But I don't think it really matters."

"No. It doesn't."

She hugged him again, and he rubbed the small of her back, touching a bit of her skin through a hole in her shirt. His fingers flared against the warmth, and he was suddenly tempted to feel more of her back. He quickly stopped.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing. There's a hole in your shirt. I don't want to worry it."

"Oh. I'll sew it later." She pulled away once more. "So tell me. Are you bringing me with just to see if I'll like the flat you pick out, too?"

He grinned at her, holding her chin in his fingers. "Maybe. Maybe I want you to like it just a little bit."

He sobered, and touched her face. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"The owl. And for a very nice birthday."

She smiled at him, and his heart tugged in his chest as a dimple flashed in her cheek. "Not a problem, Harry."

Goosebumps sprang on his neck as she said his name, and then touched his arm. "I need to go to bed."

"Okay." Harry kissed her cheek. "I'll see you in the morning. We'll have breakfast, and then leave."  
"It sounds excellent." She looked at him a moment, touching her tongue to the inside of her cheek. Harry felt blood rush to his face, and he tried hard not to think about her mouth. Ginny seemed to make a decision, and then said, "Come here."

She pulled him into her room and closed the door with a snap. "I thought maybe you'd like a reunion of last year."

He wanted to smile, but couldn't. She had stolen his breath. They stood about two feet apart, and the difference was that he was in darkness and she was covered in soft moonlight. Her hair was highlighted with silver edges, and her eyes shone more brightly. Her skin that wasn't covered by her nightgown glowed, radiant. She was beautiful.

Harry tried to talk, but was breathless and couldn't. Instead, he took two steps forward and cupped her face with one hand, the other finding where her long, beautiful hair met the curve of her back. His fingers brushed gently, and he felt her shiver under his hands. He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against hers, his mind with his hand. It went down from the arch of her spine to the curves of her waist, prominent against his palm. Her breathing hitched at his touch, and she pressed herself closer to him. He stifled the sound that came to his throat, and instead traced from where her hips flared back to her hair. He had to control himself, because he wanted to let his hand wander again, and wasn't sure where it would lead him or if he would be able to keep quiet.

"You are so beautiful." His voice was much huskier than it had been moments ago. Her breathing was still shallow, and her face was hot under his left hand.

She was the one that initiated the kiss. This kiss was different. Fiery. More blazing than the others. They had only shared a handful since their reunion, but none had been like this one. Their lips worked harder against each other, moving together, and there was a note of urgency between them. She opened her mouth for him, and he tasted her sweetness and nearly lost his head. _That _was the biggest difference. He was much deeper under this kiss than the others. He wasn't conscious of his hands or anything else, really; just her, and her mouth, and the small sound that she made when he pulled her more tightly to him. _Ginny_.

Warm skin flared under his hands, and he had to stifle a gasp as his head started spinning. Her sweetness swam through his head, the only thing he was able to taste, and the only thing that he wanted at that moment. He nibbled her lip, gently, and she gave him another small sound that sent his stomach to the floor. He was holding her waist, inching upwards, those curves that flared and lit lights behind his eyes like fireworks, and she was hot under his own skin, goose bumps exploding everywhere he touched. He was nibbling down her small jaw, and her hands were twisted furiously in his hair, her breath hot against his cheek, in his ear. He worked his way back up and made their lips meet again, so lost in the delicate taste of her that he hadn't realized just how high his hands were going. _Ginny._ What was he doing? _Nothing stupid_ echoed in his head and he had to yank himself back to his right mind. He pulled away from her quickly, breathing as though he'd run a mile. Her nightgown was more ruffled than when he had started, and fire swept clean past his cheeks and pooled in his whole face.

He took a step back from her, breathing hard like an idiot, and mumbled, "Sorry."

She was grinning ear to ear, looking quite in a daze, swaying slightly on her feet. "It's fine. It's more than fine." She couldn't stop smiling, and then he couldn't stop smiling. They looked at each other, wondering just how far things had gone. Once his thoughts stopped racing, and he was able to look at the past few minutes without getting lost again, he ascertained that things hadn't gone as far as he thought. His sense had caught up with him just as he had been moving up her sides.

"I'm sorry," he said again, "I…" His face was too hot, and his head was swimming again. He couldn't talk to her. Couldn't get his words out.

She, on the other hand, was still grinning, still slightly out of breath, and said, "No, I'm sorry… I started it… My fault…"

He resumed his closeness to her, and though it set off every hormone in his body, gave her one more hug. "I need to leave. I'll see you in the morning. Try… Try not to do that again."

She looked at him, her eyes wide and worried. "Why? Was it…?"

It took Harry all of two seconds to realize what she was asking, and then hurriedly said, "No! No, no… More than… I just… You caught me off guard. I couldn't… I couldn't think." He kissed her nose. "You are one in a million, Miss Weasley."

"So are you, Mr. Potter." She pulled away and gave him a gentle push. "Now, shoo. Before I kiss you again. Because I won't be the one regaining my senses, and I think that it'll be hard for you to stop yourself again."

He smiled at her over his shoulder as he left. He poked his head out the door, checking the coast was clear, and then said "I love you, Ginny. Goodnight."

He closed the door behind him slowly, wishing with all his might that he could've stayed and held her for just a minute longer.


	7. Someday

**Welcome back! Hey, you guys! I'm happy to bring you another chapter in And All That Follows. Thank you so, SO much for all the reviews, the follows, and the favorites. As I'm writing this, my counter is telling me we're at thirty reviews and seventy-six follows. THAT'S AWESOME! Honestly, I can't thank you guys enough. As I've said before, I LOVE, LOVE reviews… I wouldn't say no if you wanted to drop me a line. ;)**

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7

Breakfast the next morning was a noisy affair for Harry.

Mr. Weasley was present, which was odd all by itself; he had come in from the office as soon as Harry had sat down at the table. Ron was chatting happily with him about the Aurors and training. Mrs. Weasley was frying bacon, the meat sizzling and popping. Hermione sat beside Harry, speaking softly about how excited she was for school; Harry knew that she wasn't afraid to talk to him about it, but Ron was entirely different waters, and let her carry on, though she had gotten to the point that she had said most things several times. She had to talk to _somebody_ about it. Ginny had yet to make an appearance, as Mrs. Weasley kept bringing to attention every three minutes by shouting up the stairs for her to come down.

All in all, it was more loud than usual in the small kitchen.

Mrs. Weasley slipped a generous portion of bacon onto Harry's plate as Hermione told him for the fourth time that she had to speak to Professor McGonagall about what classes to take for a career in Magical Law. Harry thought it was a rather good occupation for her, but had already told her so three times in an effort to make her aware that she had already told him about it, but she didn't seem to catch the hint. As sausages joined the bacon, Ginny came down the stairs.

She was smiling, dressed in summer clothes, a nice shirt and a pair of shorts that hugged her legs. Her hair was pulled up, away from her neck. Harry smiled at her, and she grinned.

"Where are you off to, Ginny?" Mr. Weasley asked idly as a gap settled between his conversation with Ron. "You're dressed nicely."

"I don't dress nicely every day? That's kind of a slap in the face, dad." She took a seat across from Harry and helped herself to bacon. She winked at him. "Harry and I are off to London."

"Oh?" Mr. Weasley looked at his wife, and Mrs. Weasley nodded and said "Harry told me about it yesterday. They just want to get out of the house, Arthur."

Mr. Weasley looked back to Ginny. "Well, have a nice time."

He returned to his conversation with Ron. Harry grinned. He had been slightly afraid of what Mr. Weasley would say, but was glad that there had been no shouting and, actually, no argument at all.

Hermione asked, "Harry, are Ron and I still meeting you later?"

"Yes." He looked back to her. "We can meet in Diagon Alley at two, if you like."

She smiled. "I've been meaning to go see George. We can meet there and say hi."

Harry looked at Ginny, and she was watching him with bright eyes. She hastily stood. "Ready, Harry?"

He stood and made to take his plate to Mrs. Weasley, but she waved him off. "Go, dear, have a good time."

Ginny had beaten him to the small fireplace in the next room, a small jar of Floo powder in her hand. Harry made a face. "I hate Floo powder almost as much as Apparating. I wish we could take brooms."

Ginny's face didn't change. "I know. It'll be faster this way, though."

"Yes, and we won't be breaking any laws."

She threw a pinch of the emerald powder onto the embers. They still glowed from the fire they had kindled the previous night. New flames roared in the fireplace, a vivid green, crackling just as merrily as a normal fire. Harry glared at it.

He looked back to Ginny, expression softer. "I'll go first."

"We're going to the Leaky Cauldron, right?"

"Yes; your mother contacted the barman, Tom, this morning. He knows we're coming."

"Oh, good." She looked back to the flames. "We should be bracing ourselves, shouldn't we? It's not like you can just waltz into a wizard pub and expect to not be recognized."

Harry stoppered his feelings of embarrassment that automatically surfaced. "We should prepare ourselves, yes. It may take us a while to get out of there."

He took her hand and squeezed. "Count to fifteen and then follow."

He let go, and stepped into the pleasantly warm flames. Already, ash was tickling his throat, and he coughed as he said "the Leaky Cauldron!"

The fire spun him around and around in a clockwise circle. He lost sight of Ginny in half a second and was instead glimpsing other fireplaces, whirling and blurring together to just a muddle of sound and color. Just as he started to worry that he was going to end up in the wrong place, he suddenly stopped and fell out of the grate, finding himself on the far wall in the Leaky Cauldron. The pub was three quarters full today, but nobody had looked to see who had appeared in the fire. Yet.

Tom the barman, who had obviously been waiting for him, helped him to his feet. "Mr. Potter! To Diagon Alley, I take it?" At the last name Potter, several heads turned towards them, and cries of recognition and praise reached his ears. His neck felt terribly hot.

Harry shook his head. "No, I'm sorry, Tom. I mean… Not just yet. We're going to London… That is, Ginny and I, she should be along any moment…" He looked back to the fireplace desperately, the dead silence and gawking faces nearly unbearable. He continued to flounder, apparently unable to stop his mouth from talking. "She's almost of age but not quite yet, and can't Apparate, so we… And, I didn't want to Apparate by myself… Or, out of the pub for that matter, suppose a poor Muggle walked right into me."

The pub laughed, though Harry didn't think he'd said anything particularly funny. People were starting to come over and shake his hand. He felt as though he were eleven years old again, on his way with Hagrid to his first trip in Diagon Alley.

The fireplace roared behind him, and Ginny appeared. Harry caught her as she stumbled out, and she impatiently brushed soot from her face. Her eyes betrayed no emotion, though Harry could tell that she hadn't expected to see so many people.

People thanked Harry, some with tears in their eyes, others simply too star struck to speak. Some people recognized Ginny, too, and also shook her hand. She seemed utterly bewildered by this, and looked at Harry with a pained expression. He could read her message clear as day. _Can we leave, please?_

Harry shooed away his well-wishers gently as he made his way to the door. "Listen, everyone, thank you so much, but we really need to be going."

Tom walked around the bar and helped Harry move the crowd of witches and wizards back to their seats. "Leave the boy alone, budge along."

"Thanks," Harry muttered as he opened the door, allowing Ginny out first, "Thanks a lot."

Tom smiled at him. "Anytime, Mr. Potter. Anytime."

Harry and Ginny took a walk around London. They kept to the main streets, and really enjoyed the view, though the skies were cloudy. It seemed that everyone was out and about, riding bicycles and walking their pet dogs. After being in the Wizarding World for the past several months, Harry found it peculiar to be amongst Muggles again. However, it was an intense relief to be able to walk around without someone thanking him for their children, their homes, and their lives. Though he didn't regret anything by any means, he just honestly disliked the attention. It was like he was living at Hogwarts all over again.

Ginny seemed to be happy just to be out of the house. She led Harry by the hand everywhere, and insisted that they take a walk through the park, which Harry was fine with. Closer to noon, they sat on a bench in front of a large pond and watched a flock of ducks. It was so peaceful that Harry almost wouldn't get up when Ginny did, insisting that they had to get lunch and at least look at a _couple_ flats.

They had lunch in a small café that was very crowded. They each had a sandwich, though Ginny's was smaller than Harry's. It was nice to sit and just have a normal conversation and a normal lunch with her. In the back of Harry's mind, he recognized that this was their actual first date, where he took her somewhere and had time with just her, with no family or school mates watching their every move. He could very well get used to it.

A few nights ago, Harry had borrowed the most recent Muggle newspaper from Hermione—which she still took out of habit—and had circled the flats that he thought looked promising. He and Ginny walked to the nearest one, and looked at the building first. It was in a nice part of town, with about eight floors, made of a light colored brick.

"It doesn't look too shabby," said Harry.

"No, it doesn't. And the park is on the next block over. If you're lucky, you'll get a nice view."

Harry led the way inside the small building, holding Ginny's hand the entire time. The Muggle woman at the front desk looked up from a computer and regarded Harry with a large, genuine smile. "Hello. May I help you?"

Harry pulled the newspaper from his back pocket. "Hello. Is there a flat for rent that I could possibly look at?"

"Of course." She stood and walked around the desk. "Let me show you it."

She made her way through the large lobby room and towards a set of wide stairs. She started to climb, and Harry and Ginny followed slowly. The Muggle said over her shoulder, "I'm sorry you have to use the stairs. Our elevator is currently out of order."

"It's no trouble," Harry said quietly.

The Muggle woman led them to the fourth floor. The landing spit them out into the middle of a hallway, where four doors stood waiting, two on each wall. One, the door labeled number 10 had a 'For Rent' sign hanging beneath the number. The woman unlocked the door and it swung open with no noise. "Here you are. The furniture is already here, so not much heavy lifting is needed."

She allowed Harry and Ginny inside, and said to him, "I need to return downstairs. Just have a poke around and come speak to me whenever you're finished."

Harry mumbled thanks and looked at the flat. It was much more spacious than he had anticipated. He was standing in a wide, carpeted room that could only be the sitting area, with a large couch and an armchair. There was no television, but Harry had expected this. He and Ron would have to buy one on their own, if they wanted one. A small kitchen with tiled floor was tucked into the far right, beside a wide window. There was a refrigerator, an oven, a microwave, and a sink. Cupboards were tucked neatly along the top, as well as one beneath the sink.

Harry looked down to Ginny and said, "It's cozy."

"Yes," she agreed, "And there's lots of space. Plenty for you and Ron."

A wide hallway met where the living room and kitchen ended. Harry walked down it and poked his head through a doorway. It was a bathroom, big for a flat. There were two bedrooms, one at the end of the hall and the other at the beginning of the hall. They were equally sized, with a twin bed in both, and a window.

Harry grinned at Ginny. "It's perfect."

She nodded. "You're right. It's very nice." She looked down at the carpet and walked back into the living room. "Clean. And so is the building. The woman at the front was very polite, too."

Harry walked back to her. "I really admire this place. We'll show Ron once we meet up with him. Let's go back downstairs and tell the woman we'll be back in an hour or so."

They closed the door behind them and descended the many stairs. As they approached the front desk, the woman looked up from her computer. She had a telephone beside her ear, and said into it, "Excuse me just a moment." She placed it down and said, "I'm sorry, I didn't introduce myself. I'm Heidi Ashbury. I'm the landlady here. What did you think of the flat?"

Harry nodded. "I liked it. My roommate and I need to discuss the price, but I'll bring him back shortly and we'll have another look."

Mrs. Ashbury nodded. "Thank you for your time. I'll be happy to show you around again when you return."

When they did return, Ron very much liked the flat as well. He was impressed by the cleanliness, and was happy to discover that it was only a ten minute walk to the Leaky Cauldron and Diagon Alley. Harry, too, was impressed by the distance. The both of them agreed that they wouldn't find anything more convenient, and decided to buy the flat together.

They decided to move in by themselves after Ginny's birthday was over. Her party was small, smaller than Harry's, and she was greatly appreciative of the necklace Harry had picked out for her, a pretty thing that she wore around her neck always.

Moving day came quickly. Mr. Weasley had gotten a large car to help them move their luggage and small items quickly, without lugging them through the Leaky Cauldron and the London streets. Mrs. Weasley cried as she helped the boys pack all their clothes and the few possessions Ron had decided to take, like his Chudley Cannon's poster. Harry's trunk was packed with his clothes, owl treats for his new owl that he had named Carson, and his keepsakes that he had kept during the Second War. Ginny and Hermione had packed the boys some groceries that they had bought in Ottery St. Catchpole to help them get started, as well as some spare Muggle money if they needed it.

Harry and Ron rode in a second car with Ginny and Hermione as Mr. and Mrs. Weasley waved goodbye, in Mrs. Weasley's case tearfully. They had promised to be back for dinner, but it was odd to drive away and know that they wouldn't be living there anymore.

As is the case with all Ministry cars, the ride was short. When they reached the apartment, they carried their belongings upstairs in two trips and thanked the drivers, sending them off.

The difficult part about moving in was deciding whose stuff went where and who got which room. After a friendly argument, Ron agreed to take the bedroom across from the bathroom, on the condition that he got to use the bathroom before Harry in the morning. Harry was designated head chef of the flat, since he was the only one with a little bit of cooking experience from living with the Dursleys. Harry and Ron joked, even with a frowning Hermione present, that Harry's cooking would be much better than rubbery mushrooms. Ginny, who didn't get the joke, gave her brother and Harry a bewildered look before leading Hermione away to straighten the sitting room.

When the clothes were packed away in the closets and dressers, the cupboards were stocked with food, and the house had generally been decorated with a few pictures and a vase of flowers conjured by Hermione, the four sat back and admired their handy work. It definitely looked more like a place to live, and even somewhere that the four could meet and spend time in, just as they used to at the Burrow.

August passed much too quickly for Harry's liking. He felt very similarly to how he had in the last few months of his sixth year, as though the harder he tried to cling to his current life and his time with Ginny, the faster it was disappearing. Harry spent every moment that he wasn't at work with her, staying at the Burrow longer than he usually would, trying to squeeze every minute he could spend with her until she went away for school.

Ginny, Harry, Ron, and Hermione took to hanging out in the new flat. Harry had bought a small television and had set it up on an end table. The television fascinated Ron and Ginny, and they took to flipping through the channels by the buttons on the panel, as the television remote overwhelmed them. Too many buttons, they said. Often, they made Friday night their 'going out' night. Harry and Hermione, who were experienced in the Muggle world, treated Ron and Ginny to all sorts of activities that the two had never known, like the cinema and a small carnival that had set itself up at the park around the corner. Harry particularly found it amusing to watch Ron try to figure out how to work a newspaper dispenser, as well as watch Ginny's eyes widen when a movie screen flickered to life.

Much too quickly, Ginny and Hermione were packing their bags for school, much how Harry and Ron had done to move to the flat. They had made the trip to Diagon Alley as a whole group, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley included, and had taken the opportunity to visit George once again. George was looking significantly better, with more color to his face and his eyes with a spark to them. Undeniably, a part of him was missing forever, but he seemed to have finally returned to them. To Harry's surprise, Angelina Johnson had taken a position as staff at the joke shop, and took great delight in catching up with Harry and Ron whenever they so stopped by. George was happy to hear that his brother and Harry were so close to his shop, and invited them to come over anytime they liked, promising a visit of his own, too.

On the eve before September 1st, Harry and Ginny managed to wiggle away from the family after dinner. Instead of confining themselves to the house or Harry's flat, they took a walk around the Burrow's grounds, the orchards and the pond. They walked hand in hand, silently, though they didn't need to vocalize what each were thinking. They didn't want tomorrow to come.

They finally settled beneath the weeping willow that they had sat in on the day Harry had returned home from the Battle of Hogwarts. Harry leaned against the tree trunk, and Ginny rested her head on his chest as he played with the ends of her hair, trying to savor the feel of her body and her smell. He would be missing them terribly in the next few months.

After a pause, Harry said, "Can you believe that a year ago, Ron, Hermione, and I were hiding at Grimmauld Place, planning on breaking into the Ministry of Magic?"

Ginny shook her head. "No. It's hard to believe. I didn't even know the three of you had visited there." She paused, and then asked, "Harry?"

"Yes?"

"Why haven't you told me about what the three of you did?"

Harry paused, deliberating. He ended up saying, "It isn't pleasant."

"Can I hear about it anyway?"

"Tonight? Now?"

"Yes… I don't want to act like we're saying goodbye. I want to pretend that I'll be able to see you tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day…"

Harry thought about it. He'd do anything she asked him to, even if it cost him personally. He'd jump over the moon for her if it'd make her happy.

So, he started with the Horcruxes. He explained to her how the diary had been one, and how there had been five left to destroy. How he, Ron, and Hermione figured out that Umbridge had the locket and had broken into the Ministry to retrieve it. He skipped over the part of Ron walking out on them, but said that he had eventually killed the locket. He spoke about how he had missed her and had been thinking about her every day. He talked about Godric's Hollow, Malfoy Manor, breaking into Gringotts, and Dobby. He talked until his mouth was dry, and she was silent the entire time, listening. When he'd finished with Aberforth letting them into the secret passage way, she shifted and reclaimed his attention.

"Thank you for telling me all that."

"The sad thing about it, is that isn't even the half of it."

It felt good to share these things that he'd never spoken of, only thought. It was a step in the direction of sharing everything with her. One day, he would talk about Severus Snape, and how he now realized how wrong he had been the entire time. One day, he would explain about finding the Resurrection Stone, and seeing his parents. He would explain to her why he had accepted death readily, and why he'd returned. He would tell her, as well as Ron and Hermione someday. He would tell the whole world someday.

Just not today.

Right now, he wanted to hold the love of his life tight, and wish that he was going to school with her in the morning. Wish that he could fast forward his life to after her schooling, when she would get her own job and her own life, hopefully with him in the equation. So he rested his chin on her shoulder, beside her neck, and whispered, "I'll tell you all of it someday. Just the two of us, with a wide life full of opportunities and hours of talking. And I'll make you the happiest girl alive."

She was quiet for several moments. Then, she tilted her face towards his and wrapped him in a tight hug, muttering against his shoulder, "You already have, Harry."

**Thank you guys! More coming soon. Please review!**


	8. Love Always

**Hey guys! Sorry updates have been rather spaced lately. My computer decided it was going to completely destroy my hard drive and my memory. I nearly lost my files, and my screen won't turn on. I managed to (finally) kidnap my ma's laptop for a few hours so I can give you guys an update! So sorry guys! What rotten luck, right? Thank you so much for sticking with me. I promise I'll make it up to you guys.**

**School ends this Friday, and I'll officially be a freshman again! It's really bittersweet. If you're still in high school or you're younger than that, enjoy it. Seriously. It's kind of a scary thought to be going into the real world. Responsibility, nooooooooo! X3**

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**Onwards!**

8

Life without Ginny was difficult to adjust to.

Had it honestly only been a week without her? It felt like months. Harry missed her terribly, missed her hair and her smile. He wrote to her on the first day of term, sending Carson off on his first trip. Ron had broken down and sent Pigwidgeon with a letter to Hermione, also feeling the lack of feminine presence.

Training was progressing steadily and promisingly. Kingsley seemed to sense that the two needed a distraction and was pushing them harder and harder every day. Neville Longbottom had joined them back in July and was progressing as well.

In the second week of September, the sluggish atmosphere disappeared because of four simple words.

"I think you're ready."

Kingsley was looking at Ron, Harry, and Neville with his arms folded and a gentle smile on his face. Neville was bent double, wiping his forehead and panting. Harry was nursing a cut on his arm and Ron was handing him a bandage. Harry looked up at Kingsley, surprise catching him dumb. "Come again?"

"You're ready," Kingsley repeated. "You're ready to go out into the field."

Neville's mouth opened wide and Ron snorted in disbelief. "Really?"

"Yes, Ron, don't make me say it again. You can go on the next mission."

Neville tripped over his feet as he rushed forward and rang Kingsley's hand. "Thank you—Kingsley, we can't—That's… This is brilliant!"

Harry felt as though his grin would split his face. "This is really great, Kingsley. Thanks."

Kingsley shook his hand, shrugging Neville off gently. "You've earned it, boys. Go home, get some sleep. You can go tomorrow with Elphias and Hestia. Be here at dawn."

Needless to say, the family was overjoyed.

Harry and Ron had dinner with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and George that night at the Burrow. Ron had tried to convince Neville to stay, but their friend had blushed furiously and mumbled something along the lines of "Other things to do, but thanks anyway". Harry knew that he should leave it well alone, but Ron's curiosity had clearly been peaked. Harry had a feeling that Neville hadn't heard the end of the short conversation.

Mrs. Weasley had cooked an exceptional meal, complete with shepherd's pie and treacle tart, Harry's favorite. Harry was convinced that he would need to buy new pants eventually, once all delicious food from the summer caught up to him.

Mr. Weasley Flooed to Bill and Fleur's fireplace to share the news, and both were extremely pleased and excited. George had told Harry that he was proud, then looked at Ron and shrugged nonchalantly, causing a few threatened jinxes and a bit of half-hearted scolding from Mrs. Weasley.

After dinner, the boys prepared to leave. Mr. Weasley pulled Ron aside for a moment, exchanging a few words. Harry found himself being hugged tightly by Mrs. Weasley; she somehow managed to hug all of him, though she barely brushed his shoulders.

"You'll be safe, won't you, dear? Watch out for him and yourself."

"Of course, Mrs. Weasley. We'll be alright. You know us, never in the thick of things."

She pulled away, her eyes betraying her worry. "I'm sure you'll be alright. Write to us if you're allowed."

It struck Harry just then how hard this must be for her. She had already lost one son, and had believed she would need to deal with something like this much later, not so soon after. Harry worried that he was putting her through too much, but realized that there was nothing he could do. He pulled her into another tight hug and patted her on the back. He wished that he could give some better bit of comfort.

Ron and Mr. Weasley came back and Harry opened the back door as he shook Mr. Weasley's hand. Mr. Weasley said, "Be safe, Harry. Come back in one piece, yeah?"

Harry privately thought he may have a new scar to add to his growing collection, but decided not to vocalize it. "Sure, Mr. Weasley."

Harry and Ron left, Apparating past the back gate. Harry thought he heard Mrs. Weasley sniffle just as they turned on the spot and vanished.

Later that night, Harry lay in bed unable to sleep, watching the ceiling and the minutes on his clock inch by. Ron's snores from the room down the hallway were slightly irregular, and Harry thought maybe he was having a bit restless of a night. Just as he thought he'd try for the umpteenth time to fall asleep, a faint tapping came on his window.

He turned, his hand immediately jumping to his wand, thinking of Death Eaters and Voldemort and Snatchers. The tapping came again, followed by a soft hoot.

_Carson_, Harry thought with relief. He stashed his wand beside his bed again and got to his feet, crossing the room. He opened the window and his owl flew inside, feathers fluffed from the wind. Carson landed on the edge of his bed and held out his leg. Harry recognized a reply from Ginny, and hastened to untie it. He placed the letter gently down and fed Carson a couple owl pellets. "Thanks, mate. But I need you to take a reply straightaway." The owl hooted indifferently, as though he had expected this and flew to stand on top of Harry's dresser.

Harry picked up his wand once more and muttered "Lumos". His wand flared to life, light illuminating the space all around him with brilliant silver. He slit the letter open and settled himself back on his bed.

_Harry, _

_It was so good to hear from you. Things are brilliant here. Hermione has been really busy with Head Girl duties, so I've become better friends with the other girls in your year, Lavender and Parvati. They're nice, really, but gossipy. I'm sure you're well aware, though._

Harry snorted, chuckling. It was so wonderful to hear from her, to read the parchment and know that her hand had crossed it. He kept reading.

_I don't know how you managed this Quidditch Captain thing. It's bloody awful. I know that a lot of people signed up two years ago because of you, but just as many people tried out this week. I'm not sure if it's for the same reasons, but it was torture. Dennis Creevey made the team, can you believe it? He's doing alright. He's pretty drawn and pale a lot of the time, and he sometimes loses track of what he's saying, but he's an alright bloke. A good Chaser, too._

Harry swallowed past an aching throat.

_ Classes are going well. The new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Bidwell, isn't too shabby. Not nearly as good as Lupin or you, but he's okay. He was in the Order and dislikes Umbridge just as much as we did, so we've had a few laughs as a class._

_ The school looks really good. I hope you can come and see soon._

_ Speaking of which, I got my Hogsmeade schedule. The first weekend in October is our first romp out. Can you make it? I'd love to see you._

_ I miss you, Harry. Write back soon, okay? I'd love to hear about training._

_ Love always,_

_ Ginny_

Harry found a piece of parchment in a bedside drawer, a pot of ink, and a quill, and quickly set about writing a reply.

_Ginny,_

_ I'm glad things are going well there. I hope you're studying hard. You'll do brilliant, I know. Yeah, Lavender and Parvati take some getting used to, but they're okay once you get to know them. How is Lavender doing? Last I heard from her, she was being discharged from St. Mungo's but still had some awful scars. _

_ Tell Hermione I said hello and hope she isn't straining herself._

_ Training is going wonderful. You won't guess what Kingsley told us today. He's sending Ron, Neville, and I on a mission. We leave in the morning._

Harry paused, quill hovering over the parchment.

_Don't worry about me, though. It's just something small. We aren't going far from home. It's Ron I'm worried about. The food there won't be nearly as delicious as your Mum's._

_ I miss you too. If I'm home by October, I'd love to come see you. Ron will probably tag along. He misses you too, believe it or not. He doesn't say it directly out loud, but I can tell. He's also been dying to see Hermione. The bloke is more lovesick than Slughorn with crystallized pineapple. _

_ I'll write to you if we're allowed. Carson will know where to find me. _

_ I'll see you soon._

_ Love,_

_ Harry_

Harry rolled up the parchment and held out his arm. Carson swooped from the dresser where he'd been dozing, landing neatly. Harry smiled at the owl as he tied the note to his leg. "Thanks, Carson. Take this back to Ginny, alright?"

Carson nibbled his ear gently and flew out of the window, leaving Harry alone again.

At dawn, Ron and Harry arrived at Auror Headquarters with rucksacks, dressed in Muggle clothes. Harry wore a pair of loose pants and a warm jacket. Ron had brought a pair of gloves and wore one of his Weasley sweaters.

Hestia met them almost as soon as they tumbled out of the lift. "Morning, boys. Glad you see you're awake."

Ron mumbled something incoherent, still blinking sleep from his eyes.

Neville appeared behind Hestia, grinning. Harry noticed he was carrying his DA coin in his left hand. "Hi, guys. Beautiful day."

Again, Ron mumbled, and Harry rolled his eyes. "Just give him another five minutes. Or Apparate, that'll wake him up."

Hestia chuckled and said, "Alright, boys. Come with me."

She led the three of them through the cubicles, most still dark and quiet. A couple nightshift Aurors were yawning and rubbing their eyes, waving to Harry, Ron, and Neville as they passed.

Hestia led them to the very end of the cubicle row to a door that Harry had never been through. She pushed it open, and Harry found himself in a wide room. There was a map on the far wall and several seats for sitting. They were the only ones in the room.

"Sit down," said Hestia, crossing to the large map.

The three sat in the front row, rucksacks at their feet, waiting attentively.

Hestia took out her wand and pointed to the map. A small dot appeared somewhere in wide countryside, far away from London. "You'll just be going with me and Elphias for a few days. We think that we've located a group of Death Eater supporters. We've been keeping an eye on them for a while, and have reason to believe that they're going to attack a Muggle village not far from their camp."

She flicked her wand and the red dot disappeared. "We'll be there for two weeks at most. If we watch them for a while and they don't make a move, then you three will leave and Elphias and I will remain to keep watch. But we'll need you there to help round them up."

Harry nodded and Ron leaned back. Neville said, "Easy enough."

Hestia put up a hand. "Be warned. These people aren't nearly as bad as the Death Eaters, but they'll still try to harm you. Perhaps murderous intent won't be on their minds, but they'll definitely try to put you in St. Mungo's. Just watch your step and remember what we've taught you. I'm sure you guys will be fine.

"Any questions?"

Harry said, "Are we allowed to write letters?"

Hestia said, "Our base is close to a thicket of trees. As long as you go in there to release an owl and the owl isn't noticeably colored, then yes."

Harry smiled. He wasn't sure if he was seeing things or not, but he thought for sure that Neville visibly relaxed.

Hestia waited a few pauses for further questions, but when none surfaced, she said, "Good. Are you ready?"

Harry rose to his feet, followed by Ron and Neville. "We're ready."

Hestia led the way to a corner in the room, sectioned off by a rope. She walked over it, followed by the boys. She said, "We'll Disapparate from here, all together. Think of the location I've shown you, and you should be fine."

She gathered her own small rucksack, and looked at the three of them. "Ready? On three."

Harry braced himself, holding his breath.

"One… Two… Three."

Harry turned sharply and disappeared into nothing.

The tight band was on his chest again, tightening the longer he stayed in motion. He couldn't breathe, couldn't see, could feel nothing but terrible pressure.

_I need to go to the Auror base… I need to go to the Auror base…_

Suddenly, the pressure around him broke and he was breathing in fresh air. Wind whistled around him, disturbing long blades of grass.

Opening his eyes, Harry saw he was on the edge of a tiny wood, long, green prairie grass all around him. A small, seemingly abandoned shack was resurrected some ten yards from where he stood, standing beside a babbling stream.

Turning, Harry saw Ron and Neville were with him. Hestia was a few feet away, smiling. "Well done. That's always the worst part of the first day."

Hestia led the way to the worn out shack, pushing open the rickety door, her wand drawn. Harry gripped his tightly in his fist, adrenaline already rushing.

"Elphias?" Hestia whispered into the dim lighting, "Elphias, are you in here?"

Elphias Doge poked his head around the corner, wrinkles evident even in near darkness. His crooked face broke into a smile. "Hello. Come in, come in. Boys, hello."

Harry entered the shack, looking around. Though it was dark, he could make out a small sitting room, a cramped kitchen, and a hallway that round to the right, where he guessed bedrooms were. It was warm in here, and quiet.

A window on the far left displayed the fields.

"Welcome, welcome," Elphias said jovially. "So glad Kingsley let you boys come. Hungry? We've just made some tea. Have a biscuit, here."

Hestia's mouth tightened. "Elphias, there's no one watching the suspects."

Elphias waved a hand. "Dedalus popped in about an hour ago. He volunteered to go down here while the boys get settled."

Hestia's lips firmed further, disappearing in her olive skin. "Elphias…"

Elphias sighed and stood from the table. "Don't worry, boys. I suppose you'll manage without me." He winked at them, patted Harry's back, and then departed. Harry watched him scamper across the field.

Hestia turned to them, her lips in their usual neutral expression. "Here, I'll show you to your quarters."

They followed her to the side hallway. Harry grinned to himself, shouldering his rucksack more securely. He was so glad to be here.

* * *

Ginny made her way downstairs to breakfast with Hermione, Parvati, and Lavender, smiling to herself. Parvati and Lavender were giggling over a girl they disliked ahead of them, muttering something to each other about her bigger waistline. Hermione had her nose buried in a leaflet over the Ministry she had received from McGonagall a few days ago, though she must have read it thoroughly by this point. Ginny never failed to be impressed by how she navigated flawlessly through the castle, though her eyes were fervently hovering back and forth, reading furiously. She ducked around a third year whose bag had split and side stepped a water balloon thrown by Peeves from two floors up, turning a page of the small, glossy pages idly.

"Blimey, Hermione," said Ginny, "Ever hear of a social life?"

Hermione smirked, though didn't reciprocate a comment.

They arrived in the Great Hall. Ginny waved to Luna, who was seated quite alone at the Ravenclaw table. Luna waved back merrily, returning to her porridge as Ginny sat down.

Hermione finally put the Ministry pamphlet down with a sigh. "The Ministry sounds so _fascinating_."

"Bet it's better now that Kingsley's minister," Ginny said darkly, "Must not have been very jolly last year."

The owls arrived just as Ginny was helping herself to bacon. She looked up, scanning for Carson, hoping for a hurried reply from Harry.

She wasn't disappointed. The brown owl swooped in with the rest, recognizable solely because of his amber eyes. He fluttered down neatly beside Ginny and she fed him a bit of bacon and allowed him to share her orange juice as she untied his letter.

"Is that from Harry?" Hermione asked.

Parvati and Lavender peered around in interest. Ginny had finally managed to master the small start she always got when she saw Lavender now. Red, angry scars marred the left half of her face, extending down her slender throat and through her collarbone. Ginny remembered how Lavender had nearly bled out in the Great Hall after the final battle and would have died had Parvati not done immediate healing.

In reply to Hermione, Ginny nodded and eagerly opened the letter. Any word from Harry was welcome. She missed him so badly that he had become a stomach ache to her. He was always on her mind and never failed to make her grin goofily as she daydreamed.

Reading his words, her stomach clenched. He had left…

Hermione read the letter over her shoulder, and her eyebrows knit as she read. "They're on a mission? Where?"

Ginny shrugged. "I dunno. I hope they're okay."

Hermione was either not as worried as Ginny, or wasn't letting it show. "They're with older Aurors. I'm sure they'll be alright. It's just for a few days." Her voice shook at the end, and she busied herself with the owl that had just arrived with her Daily Prophet.

"Ooh," said Lavender, "Ron and Harry are with the Aurors on a mission? How exciting!"

Ginny swallowed. "Yeah… I guess it is."

She stood, her breakfast half finished. "I'm going to reply to this before class. I'll meet you in Herbology, alright?"

She left behind a Hermione that looked rather understanding and a confused Parvati and Lavender.

She made her way to the Owlery, fishing in her bag for a quill and parchment, her head spinning as she walked.

Harry was somewhere unknown in the country. He was in potential danger, as well as her brother, and she had no idea if she'd be able to hear from him or not.

Just like last year.

She swallowed the panic that rose in her throat like bile. She had accepted this. When he told her what he had decided, she had known what she'd be facing and had prepared to face it. She hadn't, however, expected it to happen so soon, to smack her in the face like a jinx. She felt as though she couldn't get enough air.

Her heart lurched as she thought of him, in Muggle clothes and hunched somewhere small and dark, thinking of her.

She angrily blinked away the tears that presented themselves and hurried to the Owlery.

The owls hooted as she opened the door, a dozen presenting their legs immediately. Ginny searched for Carson, but didn't see him. Possibly out hunting.

Instead, she caught sight of Pigwidegeon and smiled at him. Pig hooted happily, fluffing his small feathers importantly. Ginny's smile widened. "Yes, cutie, you know when I need you."

She hurried to a small wooden table in the center of the owls and brushed away a few droppings. She set down her parchment and her ink and scribbled a reply.

_Harry,_

How did she put her feelings into words? She didn't. She couldn't.

_I hope everything is alright, wherever you are. Hope it's warm, because it's already getting colder here. _

Her quill halted. She was talking about the _weather_.

_I know I've said it already, but I miss you so much. I hope that you'll get back in time for Hogsmeade. That would make everything tons better._

_ I can't say I'm not worried about you. But I meant what I said back at the start of the summer when you accepted your position. I'm exceptionally proud of you, Harry. Nothing could ever make me more proud._

_ All I ask is that you aren't reckless. I know that you're still itching for justice, and just please be careful. _

She paused again. How did she put into a letter that she thought about him every waking moment? How could she convey just how much she loved him and just how much she missed his scent, the color of his eyes, the feel of his hands. How she missed being with him every day and watching his smile grace his face. How she missed hearing that he loved her.

_I hope you can write to me, Harry. I miss you. _

_Love Always,_

_ Ginny_

* * *

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**I love you!**

**Lori**


	9. Vivid

**Howdy! Welcome back! I hope you guys are enjoying. :3 Not much to say today. Hope you guys are having a nice weekend! My last day of school was yesterday, so I'm taking full advantage of my time off. **

**This chapter is going to be a bit different than what I've been doing, a bit more adventurous. I promise this is one of the few ones, but I feel the story would be quite dry without it. The fluff is returning shortly, though. :3**

**Anyway, let's go on, shall we?**

9

Dusk came quickly.

Harry fell face first onto his bunk, moaning as the pressure hit his sore muscles. Ron was off showering, and Neville had made it in later than Harry and was still eating dinner at the small table in the kitchen.

Harry reflected on the hard day. They had taken turns watching the suspicious group of wizards. There were about six of them, and they dressed in ratty Muggle clothes. It didn't seem that they had bathed in days; their hair was ratty and a firm coat of grime covered their skin. They did strike Harry as a couple of Snatcher hopefuls, and had vowed that he would help the Aurors in any way that he could.

Whenever they weren't watching the Hopefuls, they were doing chores. Elphias was exceptionally old and no help. Hestia helped anyway she could, but it was only so much. Harry had to lug water, collect heavy firewood, and help prepare food more times than he could count. Then, he had been careless while walking through the thicket of trees, and had misplaced his foot and fallen down a small hill. His shoulders still ached with the scratches and bruises.

The highlight of Harry's day had been receiving Ginny's letter. Pig arrived with it and pestered an annoyed Ron while Harry wrote back. Harry felt guilty that Ginny was worried about him and had promised to make it up to her.

Taking off his glasses, he rubbed the bridge of his nose, wincing as pain met his touch. He gave a great yawn and placed his glasses on a nearby bed stand. Weak with exhaustion, he clumsily undressed and crawled under the bedcovers, rolling onto the cooler side of the bed. He drifted off almost as soon as he was settled.

_ He was in the Forbidden Forest, walking. There was no sound as his footsteps met ground and unlike the last time he was here, he was entirely alone. The trees were barely visible through the light of the quarter moon that filtered through the branches. Remarkably, he didn't stumble over the many roots and rocks in the forest. _

_ Entirely unsure of his purpose, he continued to walk._

_ The trees thinned. He saw the clearing where Voldemort had stood waiting with his Death Eaters months ago. As though his feet were directing him instead of his mind, he hastened to the spot where he had lay unconscious._

_ It was not there. He wasn't sure what he was even supposed to be looking for, but his feet quickly turned him around and retraced his steps up the slope._

_ His eyes searched the ground for a small sign, anything. He dropped to his knees and steadily worked his way up, scanning, still ignorant about what he wanted until—_

_ There._

_ Reaching forward, he picked up the small pebble in his hand. Tracing the Deathly Hallows mark with a calloused thumb, he stood, eyeing the stone greedily. _

_ He turned it thrice in his hand, waiting with baited breath._

_ She appeared before him, as beautiful as he remembered. Hair gently fell to her shoulder blades, softly curled. Her hands were folded neatly at her front, small and dainty. He hurriedly raised his head and greedily looked into her face._

_ But it was not Lily Potter that smiled benignly back._

_ It was Ginny._

_ "No."_

_ She raised a hand and on an impulse he grasped it. Icy fingers passed through his like wind. _

_Her eyes were not bright and vivid, but dull and empty. Her face was pale and thin, drawn. Sadness leaked from her very skin, striking daggers through his chest. She still smiled at him with that same gentleness, and he reached both hands for her._

"_Ginny."_

_She shook her head and took a step back._

"_Ginny, please."_

_Her small smile faded and she shook her head more fervently. He took another step forward, and she leapt backwards another pace, out of his touch. She eyed him solemnly, regretfully. He was reminded forcibly of the Gray Lady as she drew back her jacket and pointed to a definite bloodstain across her side._

"_No. Ginny." Tears burned his eyes and throat. "Please. This can't be real."_

_She nodded, and dropped her hands. She heaved one long, sad sigh, her silent eyes looking into his own; she faded before him, disappearing into the air._

"_Come back."_

_He whirled in circles, looking every way he could. He turned the Resurrection Stone again and again in his palm, but she failed to appear._

_Dropping to his knees, he threw the rock to the ground._

"_Ginny, Ginny, Ginny… Please…"_

_Tears fell to the ground as his shoulders shook._

_The crack of a twig brought his head slowly up. A darkened figure stood before him. He watched a wand draw from a fold in the cloak, and the figure took a step forward, raising the weapon. A soft break in the clouds above gave the land gentle, brilliantly silver light._

_Harry saw the gleam of unicorn blood sparkle on its chin._

"_Avada Kedavra."_

Harry woke with a start.

The sound of deep, even breaths met his own frantic pattern. The room was entirely dark, and Harry panicked. He groped for his wand in the darkness. Gripping it tightly in his right hand, he turned his head in all directions, listening for any sound out of the ordinary.

None came.

Breathing wildly, he replaced his wand and sat forward, holding his head in his hands.

It must've been his imagination, but he could've sworn that the scar on his forehead gave a solitary prickle.

_A dream,_ he told himself, _you were only dreaming, Potter._

It had just seemed so _vivid._

He took a shaky, steadying breath and lay back on his pillows, willing his hands to stop shaking. The time had long passed for trivial nightmares to send him packing. He couldn't let this bother him.

Things were different now. Voldemort was finished. Much less worse remained to take care of.

The only thing that kept him awake the rest of the night, though, was everything that he still had to lose.

* * *

A week passed.

The dream haunted him every two nights, sometimes three. Harry noticed it was made worse when he fell asleep with no one near him. He was unsure why that was, but now insisted that he went to bed after Ron and Neville.

Harry still maintained correspondence with Ginny. Though he didn't mention the recurring dream, it was nice to speak to somebody outside of base. He was looking forward to getting home and visiting her in Hogsmeade.

Meanwhile, the Snatcher hopefuls were becoming more aggressive. Harry was worried that they were getting ready to attack, though he wasn't sure if it would be one of their own or the Muggles first.

Hestia seemed to decide that the time had come, because she assembled the three of them early afternoon about a week and a half after Harry had the dream.

"I think we're going to take extra precaution and put everybody on duty tonight." Surveying them severely, she glanced around at each one of them in turn. "I just have a feeling."

Harry clapped Ron on the back as they departed to meander in the forest. "What do you reckon?"

Ron shrugged. "I want to catch these blokes. It's best so that no one gets hurt."

"You think they'll put up a fight?"

"Yeah. But I bet we'll put up a bigger one."

That night, Harry and Ron sat in the kitchen, tense, wands drawn and ready. They didn't speak much, though Harry divided his time between glancing out the window and reading that day's Daily Prophet. Ron was playing with his Deluminator absently. He clicked it open and then closed it again, though he thought better about making the lights disappear.

Harry looked up from a paragraph. "Do you remember how much that bothered Hermione?"

Ron smiled absently. "Yeah. Used to drive her mad." A reminiscent look filled his eyes. "Feels like it was yesterday."

"It was only a year."

"Is that all?"

"I know. Doesn't feel like it."

Quietness settled over the kitchen for a time before Ron said, "Harry? Can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"What happened in the forest?"

Harry swallowed. He had avoided telling Ginny this just a few weeks ago, but he wondered if Ron was different. After all, Ron had gone through hell for him. He had walked out and come back, like the light in the Deluminator. If Harry had to tell any two people what had happened, it would be Ron and Hermione.

Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I suppose that you've waited long enough to know.

"I… Remember how Snape had left me his memories? When—after Nagini… Well, I still had them in my pocket, and… You and Hermione were in the Great Hall with… I couldn't stay there." His voice broke and he hurriedly cleared his throat. "I went upstairs, to Dumbledore's office. I found the Pensieve, and I looked at the memories.

"It's a long story… But, I found out that… Mind you, this was weird to find out… But Snape loved my mother." Ron made a noise and Harry halted. Ron waved his hand, telling him to go on.

Continuing, Harry said, "I found out that… Blimey, this is where it gets complicated… The night my parents died, the reason that Voldemort couldn't kill me was because my mother sacrificed herself, you've heard that before, but… When he couldn't kill me, the killing curse rebounded on him… And because he had his Horcruxes, he didn't die, but… A piece of his soul was transferred into me… I became an unintentional Horcrux."

Ron stared at him open mouthed, but Harry barely noticed, lost in the story. "He had to kill me, Ron. He had to kill me himself, and that would destroy the piece of his soul that lived inside of me. If he hadn't, then he would be unstoppable. So I went to the Forest. I bumped into Neville before I got outside, and asked him to kill Nagini, so that there would always be a third…" He swallowed. He made a quick decision and decided not to tell Ron about the Resurrection Stone. "I had my Invisibility Cloak. I walked into the Forbidden Forest and found Voldemort. I took off the cloak and put it in my robes… I didn't try to defend myself. I just…

"So… I don't think I died. I saw… I thought it was King's Cross, but… Dumbledore was there. We talked. He explained everything, about the Hallows and the Horcruxes and Ariana… He told me that I didn't die because I had accepted my fate and walked right to it… He told me I could 'board a train' and it would take me 'on' or I could go back and fight. So I went back. And I woke up in the Forest with the Death Eaters crowded all over Voldemort… I'm assuming he collapsed, but I don't know… And then they made Hagrid carry me back…"

Harry's voice trailed off, lapsing into silence once more. Ron had closed his mouth, but was looking at him with an odd expression, seemingly beyond words. Finally, he murmured "Blimey Harry…"

The seconds ticked by. Ron whispered, "Did it hurt?"

Harry shook his head, and then hesitated. "Not… At first. Afterwards, it did." He pulled the collar of his shirt down, revealing the space just above his heart where the bruise still stood out, angry. Another scar for his collection.

A bang from outside brought them both to their feet, wands at the ready.

Ron hurried to the door, but Harry looked at the window. Jets of colorful light were flying in all directions. Harry hastened to Ron's shoulder and put a hand to it. The door swung open and Harry immediately put up a shield charm.

Two spells bounced from it, going back to where they came. Harry thought he heard two people hit the ground.

"Well done, Harry," said Ron.

They both hurried outside. Neville was standing beside a wall, firing jinxes in front of him with an alarmed expression. Hestia was ten feet in front of him, hair flying. Elphias was on the other side of Hestia, firing jinx after jinx.

A curse whizzed above Harry's head and he ducked. Ron shot a spell in the direction it came from, but it seemed to miss.

"What happened?" Harry shouted to Neville as he dodged more spells, firing some of his own in the direction of the attackers.

"They found out we were here!" Neville side stepped a purple jet of light that left a burn on the wall behind him. "Attacked us! At least now we have a reason to arrest them!"

Harry ran forward to help Hestia. Her wand was flying so quickly through the air that her spells were merely multicolored blurs. Harry squinted and just made out a dark figure dancing around their spells. At the same time, Harry and Hestia shot a spell at them, hitting him square in the chest. The figure crumpled.

"Two are out over there!" Harry yelled, jerking his head to the left. "That leaves three, right?"

"Let's hope!" shouted Hestia as she shot another jinx.

A yellow spell came right at Harry's face and he ducked, retaliating quickly. A cry of alarm brought his head around.

Neville was on the ground, quite unconscious, blood trickling down a deep cut on his forehead. Ron crouched over him, trying to lift him to carry to safety. Harry shot a final spell behind his back and ran over to help Ron. A spell caught him from behind, just at the heels of his feet, and he tripped, keeling face forward into the dirt. Stars blinked in his vision and he tasted something metallic. Wetness trickled down his forehead.

He lay there for all of three seconds, dazed, and then forced himself to his feet, panic shooting through him as he remembered Neville.

Neville was bleeding a lot, and Ron's eyes were desperate as Harry approached. Harry picked up Neville's feet as Ron lifted his shoulders, and together they got him into the shack.

"I'm going back out!" Harry said as they settled him on the small sofa and handed Ron the single medicine bag, potion bottles jingling. Ron took it and nodded, biting his lip.

Harry returned outside to find Hestia bent double, breathing heavily. Harry ran to her to assist her, but she waved him off. "Help Elphias and I collect the unconscious ones. We took out two more while you were helping me, and the last one Disapparated."

Harry swore as he made his way forward, wand tip illuminated. Behind him, he heard many pops and whirled in alarm, only to see several more Aurors arriving on the scene, including Kingsley and Dedalus Diggle.

Harry came across the first perpetrator. He conjured ropes and bound the Hopeful, levitating him back to base. Two more were already there, slumping against each other.

Elphias returned with a fourth, nodding his head to the shack. "Harry, you and Ron take Neville to St. Mungos. He needs immediate attention; that was no friendly curse that hit him."

Hastening back to the base, Harry opened the door and crossed to Ron. He had a bruise on his cheek but was otherwise unharmed. Harry said, "Elphias told me to take Neville to St. Mungo's with you."

Ron nodded. "You alright, mate? You're pretty bloody."  
Harry wiped the wet from his bottom lip. "I'm okay. I'm more worried about Neville right now."

Neville moaned on the couch, and Harry hurriedly picked up one of his arms and started to hoist him to his feet. Ron took the other and helped. They locked eyes and Harry nodded. Together, they turned on the spot and disappeared into darkness.

An hour later, Harry was walking out of the emergency ward, his head wrapped in a lot of white cotton. He bit his lip, still slightly annoyed at how he and Ron had been wrestled onto cots as soon as they had brought Neville in. They hadn't been able to see Neville; he had been wheeled away on a moving cot immediately. Ron had been let go after only a few moments, and he had hastened to the waiting room. Harry had been made to stay and have his eyes checked for signs of a concussion other inner trauma.

He rounded a corner and bumped into one of the Healers. She was younger, and started when she saw him. "Oh! Harry Potter!" Her eyes slid to his forehead, though thankfully his scar was hidden under the gauze. Harry repressed a weary sigh. The Healer turned her eyes to his. "I was actually sent to find you."

"Oh?" Harry's interest was peaked. "Is something wrong?"

"Not anymore. Mr. Weasley has just left, he sent me to tell you that he was called into the office. They'll probably want you there too, in just a moment. I was also told to tell you that Mr. Longbottom has been given a room on the fourth floor and that you can go see him now."

"Thank you. I'll, er… Head up there now." Her staring was off putting, and he quickly left, turning around and heading to a door that opened to a wide staircase.

He climbed to the fourth floor and found himself in a landing. There was a small help desk up here, and he walked to it. The witch on duty looked rather tired and was playing with the ends of her hair idly.

Harry approached slowly, but before he opened his mouth, she said, "Hello, Mr. Potter. Mr. Longbottom is in a private ward. Down the hallway, to the right, all the way to the end. You can't miss it."

"Er… Thanks." Harry walked around her, following her instructions, thankful that she hadn't gawked at him.

He found the door to Neville's ward and pushed the door open slowly. With a start, he saw that someone was already there.

Harry peered at a mop of long, light blond hair, bent over Neville. Her shoulders were shaking, and she was holding Neville's hand in both of hers. "Oh, Neville… Why do you need to be so brave all the time?"

Neville was awake and smiled blearily at Hannah Abbot. "I blame my Gran. Courageous old bat."

Hannah gave a watery chuckle and Neville peered over her shoulder to see Harry standing in the doorway. He said, "Harry. You're alright."

Hannah whirled around, quickly drying her eyes. Feeling terribly awkward, Harry said, "Er… Yeah, I… I just wanted to check on you before I went back to the Ministry, Ron's already gone… Hi, Hannah, how are you?" His neck was horribly hot.

Hannah Abbot gave Harry a soft smile. "I'm fine, Harry. How's your head? One of the Healers told me you cracked it on the ground pretty hard."

Harry shook his head. "I just got caught with a tripping jinx. It's a little tender, but…"

He was already backing out the door as an uncomfortable silence came over the three of them. Harry said, "I'm glad you're alright, Neville. I'll go now, lots to do, you know… I'll be back tomorrow… Get some rest… Bye, Hannah. Great seeing you."

He closed the door behind him and then halted. Slowly, a wide grin spread across his face. He thought maybe he had figured out why Neville had declined that invitation to dinner.

**Aw, Neville and Hannah. :3 You've got to love them. They're such a great couple.**

**Anyway, don't forget to review! Thanks so much for reading. I love you guys! You're beautiful!**


	10. A Zing

**Howdy! Welcome back, dear friends. I hope you are liking the story. :3 Thank you so much for the reviews, follows, favorites, and even the couple of PM's that I received! All of you rock. Your support is awesome. I write for you guys, and it really helps when I know you're enjoying.**

**So a warning to the reader… This chapter is incredibly fluffy. I know a lot of you like this story **_**because**_** of the fluff, but just in case there's the spare fan out there that doesn't enjoy fluff, this chapter may not be for you. XD **

**I have two excuses for why this chapter is excessively fluffy; one, Warm Bodies came out on DVD today, and I absolutely loved that movie when I saw it in theaters, so I rented it and watched it today. Fluff alarms were blaring the entire time. XD **

**Two, I made a playlist for Harry and Ginny a short time ago and… Well, this is the result. I also was given a sudden idea for another fic. I'm thinking it might even become a oneshot story, but I'm not certain at all; in case you're interested, though, keep an eye on my profile. I might publish it soon.**

**Let's get on with the chapter, then. :)**

**Also, I do not own Harry Potter, I'm just a crazy fan.**

**Love you guys!**

10

The paperwork that presented itself when Harry returned to the Ministry was enormous.

Ron was seated at a desk in an empty cubicle, stacks of towering papers surrounding him on all sides. His hair was rumpled and his clothes were untidy. A quill was stuck behind his ear while he wrote with a second one, ink smattering the collar of his shirt and fingers. His face was merely inches from the parchment, and his eyes moved furiously back and forth. Dark circles underscored his eyes, purple and angry.

As Harry approached, Ron didn't seem to take notice. It wasn't until Harry cleared his throat that Ron's neck shot upwards, his quill halting alarmingly quickly above the parchment.

With a hoarse voice, Ron said, "Harry. Are you alright?"

Touching the bandages around his head, Harry shrugged and said, "Yeah, I'll be fine. It's only a bump on the head."

Wearily, Harry pulled his wand from the inside of his robes and summoned a spare armchair from one of the cubicles. He drew it beside Ron, shifting around the daunting piles of parchment. "What's this for?"

"Case report." Ron rubbed his eyes, getting ink on his face, making the bags beneath his eyes even darker and more pitiful looking. "We're the rookies on the case, we're stuck with it."

Harry looked around at the mounds, bewildered. "All of this?"

"Yes… This is all three of ours. I thought, since Neville is in St. Mungo's, it'd just be better to do his for him and he can give us an I O U."

Harry nodded, already weary, though he hadn't even laid a quill to the parchment yet. "Alright. Where do I start?"

Ron pointed his quill to the stack nearest Harry's feet. "That's where your share starts. Here, have a quill."

Handing Harry a feather and ink pot, Ron said, "Oh. And Hestia says we shouldn't go home until this is done, now that we've started."

"Brilliant," said Harry, "Really great."

* * *

"Harry? Harry!"

Groaning, Harry rolled over, already falling back asleep. He was only dreaming. There was no reason to wake up yet.

"Harry!"

"Ugh…"

Blearily, Harry opened his eyes. His glasses were off, on the bedside beside him, and all vision was fuzzy and blurry. Squinting, Harry could just make out a mop of bushy hair and large, fierce brown eyes.

"Blimey, Hermione!" Harry pulled his blankets to his chin, hastily snatching his glasses from the table, placing them on the bridge of his nose. Hermione came abruptly into focus, her mouth tipped into a slight frown and her arms crossed at her chest. She was dressed in Muggle clothes, though Harry could make out the bulge of her Gryffindor tie beneath her sweater.

"What are you doing here?" Harry hissed, pushing his hair from his face.

"At breakfast this morning, I received a letter from St. Mungo's." Her lips trembled and Harry suddenly realized she was frowning and shaking from worry, not anger. "It said you, Ron, and Neville had been there because your Auror base had been attacked." Tears swam in her eyes and spilled over, pooling at her chin. "I thought… I thought…"

"Ah, Hermione." Looking around quickly, Harry found a discarded shirt from the night before and pulled it on, then pushed himself out of bed. He gave a small groan as his sore feet met the cold floor, but quickly met her and gave her a tight hug. "I'm sorry. It didn't cross my mind to owl you immediately. I was going to do it this morning… Or, rather, when I woke up. I didn't think St. Mungo's would send you something."

Hermione gave a small sob and a watery chuckle. "You better explain to Ginny. She's having kittens."

Harry groaned again and pulled away from her. "Alright. You should go back to school."

Sniffing, Hermione nodded. She said, "McGonagall gave me special permission to make sure the three of you were alright, but I'm not sure how long I'm allowed."

Harry looked around her shoulder, asking, "Where's Ron?"

"He got an owl before I got here. Something about the paperwork...?"

"Oh, bloody hell." Harry walked around her, motioning for her to follow. "I hope nothing went wrong, we spent all bloody night—"

At that moment, a small pop was heard down the hallway. Hurrying towards it, Harry found Ron plopping down onto the small sofa, rubbing his temples. An abandoned letter lay open on the table next to a cold, half-drunk cup of tea.

Harry paused beside the sofa, Hermione directly behind his shoulder. "Everything alright?"

Ron looked up. "Oh. You're awake." Finding Hermione, his mouth tipped upwards. "Hi, Hermione."

"Ron!" Hermione rushed forward and gave Ron a very tight hug and a sloppy kiss on the cheek. As she pulled away, her neck was red and her eyes were fierce once more. "The next time you get home from a mission, send either Ginny or I an owl straightaway!"

"Why?" Ron turned to Harry, bewildered.

Answering for him, Hermione said, "A St. Mungo's owl found Ginny and I at breakfast. It made it sound like the two of you were seriously hurt."

"Oh." Ron's face fell, though Harry had the sneaking suspicion that he was trying not to laugh. "I'm sorry. We're sorry. We were there all night doing that blasted paperwork. I barely remember coming home."

Ron pushed a bit of hair from Hermione's eyes. "Don't worry. We're fine."

Hermione visibly relaxed and hugged him again. "Ginny nearly shouted McGonagall down when she wouldn't let her come. You better be groveling on your knees for forgiveness."

"Better Harry than me," Ron said, shooting Harry a grin.

Harry smiled good naturedly. "So what happened?"

"We just missed a page. It got pushed to the floor."

Rubbing his face, wincing as he felt stubble, Harry said, "Is that honestly all? Hermione nearly gave me heart failure."

"I didn't know what you guys worked on," Hermione said, a little meekly.

Harry shrugged. "It's in the past. You hungry, Hermione?"

Hermione bit her lip. "A little. I didn't really eat breakfast after that owl…"

"What about me?" Ron complained.

"You're always hungry, mate. I never ask you anymore if you want something when I cook."

Harry busied himself in the kitchen with cooking a late breakfast while Hermione Flooed McGonagall's fireplace to let her know Harry and Ron were fine and Neville was recovering. Harry didn't listen to their conversation, though he thought that he caught Hermione asking McGonagall to relay the message to Ginny.

"So how's Hogwarts going, Hermione?" Harry called as he heard her settle back on the sofa.

"It's brilliant, Harry. It feels just like it did in first year, when… Well, that was the most normal year we had, wasn't it?"

"Let me see," said Ron's voice, "First year, we had that stone business, but that must've been about as normal as it could've gotten, because classes were never interrupted. Second year we had the Chamber and everyone being Petrified left and right… Third year we had Sirius in the castle—" Harry's heart gave a nasty lurch, "—Fourth year we had that bleeding tournament. Fifth was just a disaster on its own with Umbridge. Sixth year… Well, what didn't go wrong sixth year? And seventh year we were crouched in a freezing forest hunting Horcruxes."

"So generally, you're saying that we have the most rotten luck in the world," said Harry.

He put several pieces of toast beside jam and butter on the table, followed closely by a plate of scrambled eggs. He drew up a chair on the end of the table. "Food's on."

Ron was first in his seat and was already piling his plate before Harry could offer Hermione a pitcher of juice. Hermione sniffed, hiding a smile as she sat in the third chair. "Feels almost like we're in the Great Hall; Harry's manners are, as usual, impeccable, and Ron is putting food before everything else."

"I resenth thath, Hermernee," Ron said around a spectacular mouthful of egg.

"Example one," Hermione smiled.

Harry grinned quietly to himself. Though it had only been a few weeks since he had been with Hermione, it had been longer since it had been the three of them together, enjoying a meal. Thinking back, Harry thought that the last time had been the evening they had been captured by Snatchers. Repressing a shudder, he helped himself to more eggs and tuned back into the conversation, smiling at the familiar, quietly funny squabble.

* * *

As it transpired, Ginny was furious with the pair of them. Hermione wrote in one of her letters later that week that Ginny had considered sending a Howler, but thought better of it because the two lived near Muggles, perhaps one of the only times that she had given in to reason over her temper. Harry wrote a lengthy, apologetic letter, and mailed a chocolate frog with it, hoping he would make it up to her. She replied the next morning with a short note that said she was telling all the girls in seventh year, including his Lavender and Parvati, that he didn't have a Hungarian Horntail tattoo on his chest after all, but that it was of a Pygmy Puff to match Ron's.

Kingsley had given Harry and Ron time off, and they spent most of their mornings by visiting Neville. Though he was doing fine, he kept insisting that he felt off color. Harry privately thought this might have something to do with Hannah Abbot's constant presence and doting, though he didn't point this out. When there was a brief moment that Harry and Neville were alone, Harry said, "Just ask her out, Neville. You shouldn't have to pretend you're ill to keep her attention."

"I really am ill, Harry," Neville insisted, though he had blushed bright red.

Nonetheless, Neville left St. Mungo's within a few days, Hannah Abbot staying securely beside him, insisting that he needed help traveling and getting resettled.

The first Hogsmeade weekend fast approached, and Harry and Ron soon found themselves bundling up with old scarves and hats to beat the chilly October air early on Saturday morning. They Disapparated together and found themselves on the small path leading to Hogsmeade. Pushing open the small gate, the two walked down the road to the main plaza in the village. Fallen leaves blew around in the wind, the empty branches on trees moaning. Several people called greetings and hellos to the two of them, though no one rushed forward as Harry had expected. Perhaps it was too cold.

Ron led the way into the Three Broomsticks, and they nudged their way into the warm. Ron asked for four butterbeers from Madam Rosmerta while Harry found a table. The tavern wasn't very crowded today; a pair of witches sat in the corner gossiping, while a couple other tables were full of wizards chatting rambunctiously over tankards of Firewhiskey and mead. Harry chose a corner near the fire, towards one side.

Ron returned shortly, carrying two full bottles of hot butterbeer. He passed one to Harry as he sat down and checked his watch. "They should be here soon."

Sure enough, not five minutes after speaking, the door opened and Hogwarts students began to enter. Harry recognized a couple of younger students from his previous time at Hogwarts, and waved merrily at Seamus and Dean as they entered. The two waved back excitedly and quickly joined Harry and Ron at their table.

Hermione and Ginny were not far behind Seamus and Dean at all. Harry thought quietly that Ginny looked more beautiful than usual. Her slender frame was covered with neat pants and a black, older-looking coat. Her hair billowed around her graceful neck, fiery red and wavy, standing against the Gryffindor scarf dangling near her narrow shoulders. A knitted hat lay nestled on her hair. Her eyes found his across the room, and they immediately sparkled. It seemed that any anger that had remained was instantly forgotten.

The girls made their way to the table, weaving through the tables that were steadily getting more crowded. Harry stood as Ginny approached and hugged her, and then helped her sit in a chair beside him. He settled himself next to her and gently took her hand under the table, rubbing a thumb across her small, dainty palm.

Hermione sat between Ron and Seamus, asking a passing Rosmerta for two more butterbeers. Ron had his arm around her, rubbing the top of her arm.

Seamus raised an eyebrow at them, and Dean, laughing, asked, "So when did that happen? It's about time."

Laughing, Hermione said, "Over the summer," while Ron's ears and neck turned steadily crimson, though he grinned in a sheepish kind of way.

"What's being an Auror like?" Seamus asked Harry and Ron, "Is it cool?"

"It's a little tedious," Harry said.

Ron added, "There was a lot of paperwork after our most recent mission. And the mission itself was a lot of waiting. But it was only a beginner's mission, really. So it'll get a lot more exciting… At least, that's what Hestia has been telling us."

"How is school going?" Harry asked.

"Great to be back," Dean answered, "Hell of a lot better than squatting on frozen ground half asleep, trying to keep guard for Snatchers. It's pretty brutal, though."

"The homework is maddening," Ginny put in, "At least two feet for every essay. The only upside to that is the work is so complicated that it usually isn't a problem to write. Sometimes, though, it takes a bit of fluff." She grinned at Harry and his heart stuttered. "If I remember right, you were the master at that."

"What? Killing essay space? Yeah, but it was usually the day before it was due. Ron and I were terribly bad at procrastinating."

"See, we've turned over a new leaf," said Ron, putting his butterbeer back on the table, "We took care of that paperwork we had to file straight away, even though the both of us were dead on our feet."

"How's your head?" Ginny asked, her eyebrows knitting together as she looked at Harry.

Harry answered, "It's fine." He touched the side of his head, happy that it finally didn't throb beneath his touch. "It's just a little sore still, that's all."

"You were hurt?" Seamus asked.

"Yeah. Didn't anyone tell you? I had a head injury and Neville got hit full in the face with a curse. He was in St. Mungo's for a few days."

"Blimey." Seamus gave his head a little shake. "I didn't have any idea."

Dean looked at Seamus. "I thought I told you. Hermione told me over breakfast a few weeks ago."

"You didn't."

"I'm almost certain that I did."

"You bleeding did not. You're always too busy sucking Parvati's face to know exactly what you've said and haven't said."

Ginny laughed and Harry felt his heart melt in his chest. He had forgotten just how much he loved the sound of her laughter. Or, maybe, it was because he loved the idea of her being happy.

* * *

Their crowd parted after they had finished a second round of butterbeer and had departed the tavern. Dean and Seamus headed towards the post office to check for a package. Harry and Ginny, hand in hand, started up the path to visit Honeydukes, and were halfway there when they realized Ron and Hermione weren't with them. Turning, Harry looked in every which way, but they had disappeared.

"Funny. That's not like them."

Ginny giggled. "I think Hermione mentioned something about dragging Ron to a bookstore. But I think it was just an excuse to give me so that they can be alone."

"Maybe she was serious. Poor Ron."

"In any case," she turned to him, her eyes suddenly dancing with a new light, "That leaves you and me alone."

Harry felt his face break into a wide smile. "Yeah. I suppose it does."

There was a silence, broken by Harry, who asked, "Fancy a walk?"

They set off out of the village and stepped off the path, walking towards the Hogwarts grounds. Weak autumn sunlight broke through the overcast sky, setting patchworks of light drifting through the grass and barren trees. Harry wrapped his fingers through Ginny's, walking on her left side, happy to be with her again, if only for a short while. Walking around the lake, Harry felt almost as though he were back in his sixth year, enjoying Ginny's company and warmth.

They talked the entire way, about everything and anything. It felt wonderful to experience easy, interesting conversation with her again. Though it had only been a few weeks since he had last seen her in person, it felt like years. Harry was happy to hear her voice again instead of imagining its tone through her letters and words; he was happy to play with her fingers in his own instead of think of her handwriting.

It was wonderful to see her.

After a long walk, they settled themselves beside the lake, some ways from Dumbledore's white tomb. A weeping willow tree still held its thick leaves, and hid them from the sight of everyone else.

Harry settled beside the trunk and closed his eyes, Ginny leaning her head on his shoulder. She said, "You have another scar."

Cracking open an eye, Harry said, "Where?"

"I think it's where you hit your head. It's faint and white, but it's there."

She reached up a small hand and gently touched the mark with the flat side of her middle finger, looking at it closely. "It's very small. But it means a lot."

"The other ones still mean a bit more to me."

"Yes. I would think so." Gently, she moved her hand from the new scar to the old, tracing the outline of the lightning bolt with a slightly shaking finger. Harry opened his eyes fully and looked to her, blinking slowly. She said, "It's never been the scar that caught my attention, you know. It was your eyes."

Harry blinked again and said nothing. She didn't continue, but her sweet mouth tipped upwards into a small smile. "I wonder if I'm one of the only ones."

"Probably," Harry said quietly.

He reached out a hand and held her chin between gentle fingers. A patch of sunlight broke through at that moment, and her eyes shone in the light, dancing against the clouds. Wind brushed the hair gently from her face, exposing her small ears and the part of her neck that wasn't covered with her scarf. Harry traced the outline of her jaw with a finger, brushing her right cheek with his thumb, just passing beneath one sparkling, chocolate colored eye.

His voice thick, he whispered, "You are so beautiful. Have I ever mentioned that?"

Ginny looked thoughtful a moment. "Not directly."

She shifted closer to him, the fabric of her clothes brushing the leaves on the ground. Harry wrapped his free arm around her waist, pulling her to him. Their waists touched, and even through several layers of cloth, Harry felt a zing.

Harry heard her breath catch in her throat, and she looked up at him, her eyes wider than before, darker. She swallowed hard, her small throat bobbing, and Harry felt his heart push clear to the back of his throat, the beat drumming steadily and quickly in his ears. His hand moved from her chin to cup just beneath her hair, where her head met her neck. Fingers playing with her hair softly, he closed the remaining distance between them by pushing his forehead against hers.

He could feel her fingers trembling in her lap. Her delicate mouth quivered, taking in a gentle breath. He closed his eyes, giving a small, bright smile. "Do I make you nervous?"

"No…" Her voice was clear and bold as always, though there was a definite note of uncertainty.

Laughing, Harry said, "Come on, what is it?"

Ginny licked her lips, and the tip of her tongue just barely brushed him. Harry felt his heart stop and his breath hitch in his chest. After a few painful seconds, he could breathe again. She didn't seem to notice, but was maybe struggling with something. After hesitating, she finally admitted, "You make me… You make me _feel_, Harry."

He swallowed again. "I don't understand."

"When…" She licked her lips again, and Harry literally felt his blood pressure rise. "When I'm with you… I feel… Alive. And… Like I belong… Does that make sense?"

Harry nodded, because he felt exactly the same way.

"I love you, Harry."

His heart went from his throat to his chest again, melting. His throat was so thick that he couldn't respond with his voice, so he did the only sensible thing that remained to do.

Tilting his head, he pressed his lips to hers.

The reaction was instant. Emotion erupted in his chest, so thrilling and sudden and frantic that he wasn't sure what exactly he was feeling. All he could easily identify was happiness. A happiness so huge that he felt as though his chest would burst open. She was all that he wanted, all that he needed. Ginny, with her sweet smelling breath and hair; she was his sunlight, the flowers in the spring time, the trees in the summer, the snow in the winter and the wind in the autumn. She made his entire world go round. She was the reason that his earth kept spinning, the reason that he risked his life as an Auror, to protect the one that he loved. She was his very core, his heart, his soul, everything. She was everything.

Ginny wrapped her arms around his neck, and he pulled her closer. His hand rested on the small of her back, the other still twisted in her hair. _Ginny_. She was so damn beautiful. Her mouth worked with his, evenly and matching pace. It was so sweet. _She _was so sweet. Her small waist, her hands, even her shapely legs; she was perfect, absolutely perfect.

She deepened the kiss, opening her mouth for him. He didn't need any further invitation; his tongue found its way to hers, tasting the sweetness of her mouth. She let loose a small moan that put his hair on edge. Lightness gone, he pulled her into his lap, both of his arms wrapping securely around her waist. Her hot little hands found the back of his neck, holding him to her tight. She broke away, her small teeth finding his bottom lip. _Woah._ Heat crept up Harry's neck and pooled in his face. _Where had that come from_? Her mouth moved from his lip to his chin, then across his jaw, teeth scratching. Harry could hear his heartbeat in his ears, feel his pulse rapid in his neck. _Ginny._

Her mouth worked its way down his neck, hot and urgent. Her little tongue put pressure on his skin with every new kiss. Harry managed to put his lips in her hair, kissing gently, though it didn't detain her. Her fingers were suddenly pulling at the collar of his shirt, and fire swept across Harry's cheeks. _Woah, baby._ Her teeth scratching, her tongue pressing, her mouth moved horizontally across his collarbone, sucking gently. Harry couldn't breathe, couldn't think. He could only think of her name, over and over in his head. _Ginny. His Ginny._ She was so wonderful.

Gently, she worked her way back up his neck and along his jawline, finally coming to a rest once more on his mouth. Their tongues met again, and she moaned, a small sound in her throat. She whispered, "Harry…"

Any rational thought that had remained was blasted out of his mind like a nuclear shell. He turned her over so that he rested above her, his hands bracing on either side of her. She was smiling against his mouth, moaning again. Harry's pulse drummed faster in his ears, all of his senses directed towards her. He pushed himself onto his right side, freeing his hands. Both went to her waist, where they gently pushed themselves up into her coat. He found the edge of her sweater and tugged upwards a few inches, exposing her hot skin to his hands. His fingers brushed over her as though they were starving and had found a banquet. The curve of her waist fit perfectly in the palm of his hand, flaring outwards both at the swell of her hip and her chest. Her curves were beautifully shaped, slender and sexy. His fingers traced the front of her stomach, pushing further upwards.

Heat felt as though it were pulsing everywhere as his hands went further still. He found the edge of the front of her bra, a lacy thing that was probably delightful in lighting. His fingers traced up the middle of her chest, brushing against her cleavage. She groaned into his mouth, and Harry found himself gently holding one of her breasts, fingering the edge of the material longingly. Until that point, he had been unconscious of her hands, but was made suddenly aware by them as she found the waistline of his jeans. Her trembling fingers brushed his stomach, teasing the lining of his underwear.

_Oh, Merlin. _

Through ragged kisses, Harry finally managed to whisper, "Not like this. Not here, Ginny…"

"Here," she moaned, arching her back. Harry couldn't breathe again, his heart slogging in his chest. "Please."

She caught his mouth in another molten kiss. Harry tried desperately to breathe, to slow his bounding heart. He whispered, between kisses, "No… Too precious to me… I can't…"

Using every ounce of willpower he possessed, he pulled away from her, his trembling hand snaking out of her shirt. He looked to her with tortured eyes. "Not on the ground. Not in the cold…"

She looked at him, too winded and stunned to respond. They watched each other for the space of several heartbeats, each breathing as though they had run a mile. Ginny said, "Is that really why?"

"_Yes_." Harry caught her hand and kissed her palm. "Merlin, Ginny… I've never…" He was blushing furiously again and was still having trouble thinking. "I… I've never wanted anything so badly… _Ever_." He found her eyes again. They were round and innocent looking. "I love you too much. I can't just…" He trailed off.

She pushed herself straight, smiling. "How gallant of you."

"Ginny…"

She put up a hand. "Harry." A shiver went up his spine. "It's fine. I…" Her eyes looked strangely brighter. "I'm _touched_, Harry."

He smiled. "I don't want you to think I don't… I don't… _Want to_."

"No, I know you do." Her eyes danced mischievously and a wide grin spread on her face. "Trust me." Her eyes briefly flickered to the waistline of his pants, and red flooded his face and neck again, hot and uncomfortable.

She pushed herself to her feet. "Maybe we should get back."

Harry stood too, brushing dirt from his pants and leaves from her hair. "Yeah. I think it's around time Ron and I got back."

They held hands again and continued as though nothing had just happened. Harry said, "Can you and Hermione break away for dinner?"

Ginny shook her head. "I don't think so. And I'm not sure if you're allowed to come eat in the Great Hall."

"That's alright, right? We'll see each other again soon… When is your next Hogsmeade visit?"

"Sometime in December…"

Harry looked at her, his eyes sad. "We'll continue to write letters."

"Yes… But it isn't the same."

He halted and took her in his arms again, kissing her very gently, not wanting to start anything. She surrendered immediately, melting into his arms like butter on a hot skillet. He could feel in her touch that she wanted things to go further, but he didn't dare. Instead, he broke the kiss and smiled at her. "I know, Ginny. But we'll make it work."

She gave a small smile. "We always do, don't we?"

* * *

Later that night, Ginny was lying awake in the dormitory after everyone else had fallen asleep. She still grinned like a fool when she thought about her afternoon with Harry. _Sweet Merlin…_ The things he had made her feel… At simply the memory, her heart felt as though it was going to escape from her chest, it was fluttering so quickly. She remembered his hands along her stomach, teasing, and vaguely wondered how they would feel elsewhere. Blushing furiously, she rolled over and tried to fall asleep to no success, a grin spreading on her face.

_Harry…_ She had glimpsed his chest, when she had pulled at his collar shirt, as well as a large bruise. She wondered if it was from the Battle, and thought she would ask him about it sometime. His chest, from what she had fleetingly saw, was bare and had slight muscle to it, just a vague breadth. He was so thin, that she thought it amazing he had any muscle to it at all. The look really suited him, and she found her mouth watering at the thought of it.

Blushing ever harder, she rolled to the other side, torn between trying to sleep or thinking about what could've been.

She thought about his eyes, those beautiful green irises. She remembered how when their eyes had met after she had kissed him so, they had been so dark; a jade color, no longer medium emerald, but a deep green. His eyes had been the size of dinner plates, large in his face. She had loved looking at him, watching him. Harry rarely lost his composure, but today he had; a small part of Ginny had felt proud that it was because of her.

Rolling onto her back again, she grinned goofily at the ceiling.

She was certain about a lot of things, and this afternoon, she had found one more thing to add to the list; that she loved Harry Potter and wanted him more than anything in the world.

**Well… I tried to warn you, didn't I? XD It was longer than usual. I hope you liked it. **

**Don't forget to review, pretty pretty please! It honestly makes my entire day. I really want to break 50 by next Monday, when I graduate! And after we break a hundred, I PROMISE I'll quit begging. XD **

**I love you guys soooooooo much! You make my day!**

**Always, **

**Lori**


	11. Perfect

**Hey guys! Welcome back! I owe you a lot for all the love I got from the last chapter. :3 I'm glad you liked the fluff. I was a little worried. XD**

**I'm really glad I'm able to get this up tonight! I know it's late, but as I'm on summer, the lateness of the hour doesn't matter much. XD The Midwest is getting slammed with some pretty heavy storms right now, so I'm just thankful my power didn't go out!**

**Anyway, here's another chapter for you! Hope you enjoy. Don't forget to review, guys. You make my day. :3 Or, night in this case. X3**

**I own nothing!**

* * *

11

Harry, Ron, and Neville returned to the Ministry the following week. Neville had obtained a scar on his cheek from their mission, but was otherwise completely normal. When Harry asked him about Hannah, Neville blushed and hurriedly changed the subject. Ron speculated over lunch that day if it was because she had turned him down or if he simply didn't feel comfortable talking about it yet.

The week of their return bore them a mixture of bad and good tidings. The aspiring Snatcher that had escaped was still at large, and had not been located. Based on her notes from the mission, Hestia concluded that he may even be considered a mad man and should be caught at all costs. Harry asked Hestia to keep him on the case, and she obliged, as long as an older Auror assisted him. Harry found himself teaming up with an Auror that had helped him with training, though he was rather unacquainted with: Dwight Osburn, a graying, intelligent, and pleasant man. Osburn was blunt and always to the point, and didn't stare at Harry as some people did, or even comment on Harry's fame at all. In fact, he treated him as though he were just another person, and Harry felt extreme gratitude for it.

Towards the end of the week, Harry was given his own office. It was beside the one he and Ron had finished their mounds of paperwork, and was a little on the larger side. Harry quickly tacked up pictures of the maddened Hopeful, and put more cheerful, framed pictures of himself, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and the Weasley family around his new desk. Ron's office was just next door, and Neville's was across the way. Each of them felt a little older and more accepted whenever they walked into the space and realized, with a slight shock, that it was theirs.

Weeks turned to months, and passed with no leads or new information at all on the Hopeful. It was as though he had disappeared, as Sirius had done years ago. Harry fought frustration, and decided he would just have to grin and bear it. In the meantime, he was also assisting Kingsley rebuild the Auror department. Suitable recruits were difficult to come by, as people simply didn't want to risk their lives again so soon after they had found peace. Harry found himself staying later and later every night to sort through cases and rack his brain for ideas around his Snatcher and to gain members.

New criminals were being brought in every day. Almost all of the Death Eaters had been rounded up and remained on wait for trial. The most famous villains had been sent to Azkaban, including Dawlish and Rookwood.

Christmas was fast approaching, as Harry was reminded of every time he walked through the Atrium at the Ministry. A large Christmas tree had been erected beside the large memorial, and tinsel had been strung all around the lifts. People began to talk about what they were going to do with their vacation.

Towards the middle of December, Harry was in his office, going over his notes over the Hopeful, when a knock on the edge of his door brought his attention forward. With a jolt, Harry saw Draco Malfoy standing a few feet from him. He was dressed in fine robes with a gold trim around the collar and sleeves, though still looked rather ill. His skin was paler than usual, and his eyes were framed with purple circles.

Clearing his throat, Malfoy folded his hands in front of him and looked at Harry, plainly struggling for words. He finally said, with a stiff nod, "Potter."

Harry stared back at him, suppressing the rise of dislike that came in his throat. He said, "Fancy seeing you here."

Malfoy's lips thinned, and he said, "I didn't want to come. But…" He trailed off, looking at a spot past Harry's left ear. Then he continued, "I didn't have a choice. I need your help."

"_My_ help?" Harry had never heard of anything so ridiculous. Draco Malfoy, asking him for help? The world must be ending. "What is it you need?"

Draco swallowed hard, and Harry was surprised to see a flicker of emotion on his smooth face. His voice was lower and a tad thicker when he said, "My parents are on trial."

"Oh." Harry was unsure if he should say he was sorry or good riddance. "So what is it you need?"

"I…" Draco bit his lip. "Look, Potter. I know that we've had our differences—"

"_What_ do you need?"

Hesitating once more, Draco finally said, "They've asked if you'll testify in their favor."

Harry found himself at a complete loss as to what to say. Help the Malfoys? He could hardly stomach the thought. "They've been pardoned, right? Why do they need _me_?"

"They're being considered for pardoning. I'm sure if _you_ testified to the Wizengamot—"

"Malfoy, I need to think about it. Okay? You don't need me today, right?"

"No." Draco swallowed, eyes shifting around. "Consider it, though…" He looked as though he had something stuck in his throat when he said, "Please."

* * *

"You're joking," said Ron that evening at the flat over dinner, "You've got to be kidding me."

"No." Harry helped himself to more bread as he ate some rather thin stew. "He came and asked me, slimy git. Can you believe it? He actually said _please_; Malfoy, asking me for help, with _manners_."

"So what are you going to do?" Ron's spoon was halfway to his mouth, but he quickly replaced it. Harry thought it was a show of the shock that Ron wasn't eating as ravenously as usual.

"I don't know. I need to think about it."

"Well, Lucius tried to kill us. Why should we help him?"

_Because they didn't fight in the Final Battle_, Harry thought privately. Out loud, he said, "I suppose you're right. But… Blimey, I need to owl Hermione."

"Why bother? They're coming home next week for Christmas holidays."

Harry had forgotten in his bewilderment. "You're right. Merlin… We need to go shopping."

"_You_ need to go shopping," Ron said, pointing his spoon at Harry. "I haven't been staying at the office all hours of the night."

* * *

Draco didn't come to see Harry in the next week, though Harry asked Kingsley about the Malfoys; they were scheduled to be on trial shortly after the holidays. Harry privately thought that he wasn't going to be able to deny the Malfoys' request, not after Narcissa had lied to Voldemort himself. Ron wasn't so supportive, and grew a nasty ruddy color whenever Harry brought up the Malfoys. Harry thought that maybe Hermione would be able to turn his opinion around, as it would help if the two of them testified as well.

On that Friday morning, Harry and Ron came to the Burrow with rucksacks full of clothes to stay for the holidays. Mrs. Weasley greeted them with wide open arms, planting sloppy kisses even on Harry. Face burning, Harry tried to gently disentangle himself from her. "Merry Christmas, Mrs. Weasley."

Mr. Weasley was at her shoulder, grinning widely. "Let the boys breathe, Molly."

Ron and Harry quickly made their way upstairs, left their rucksacks, and then went back down to meet everyone in the kitchen. Bill and Fleur would be arriving tomorrow, while George was tonight, but Charlie and Percy were seated amiably at the table, Percy chortling with laughter, evidently at a story that Charlie had just told. Quietly, Harry marveled at the change in the third Weasley brother. He still wore his horn rimmed glasses, but his pompous and condescending air had all but vanished; he had a much broader sense of humor than Harry recalled, and laughed more. Harry shook hands with both Charlie and Percy, and sat himself across from them. Charlie was sipping a glass of Firewhiskey, and eyed Harry over the top of his drink with a candid expression. "So I've heard you're back with Ginny."

Beside him, Ron was grinning, and Harry felt heat surge into his neck. Tugging at the collar of his shirt, he said, "Yeah. We are."

Charlie said nothing, but swallowed more Firewhiskey. Percy said, "Since when?"

"Summertime."

"They're inseparable," Ron put in with a mischievous smile. Harry gave him a look that plainly asked him to stay out of it, which, of course, only egged him on. Continuing, Ron said, "He writes to her every day. He even sends her presents sometimes."

Charlie smacked his lips and set his glass on the table. "Just make sure you're good to her. I happen to like you a lot, Harry; it'd be a shame if I had to do something illegal."

Percy leaned back in his chair. "Well I think it's great. I've never seen her as happy as she is with Harry."

Blushing harder still, Harry said, "Thanks, Percy."

Ron added, "Not to mention Harry grins like a fool whenever she's around."

Harry, unable to take it anymore, said, "And Ron has been seeing Hermione. They snuck off from Ginny and I when we went to Hogsmeade."

"Oh?" Charlie rounded on Ron, "Is that right? Taken a trip to Madam Puddifoot's, have you?"

It was Ron's turn to change colors as Harry, Charlie, and Percy roared with laughter.

* * *

The train from Hogwarts couldn't arrive quickly enough, in Harry's opinion. He and Ron stood shoulder to shoulder with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley as five o clock inched closer. Harry asked, "Does Hermione have to stay longer with Head Girl duties?"

Ron shook his head. "I don't think so. She may dawdle a bit, though."

Finally, the familiar scarlet engine rushed into view from around a corner. The knot of parents that came to collect their children buzzed excitedly, and Harry felt excitement and anticipation spread through him. The train slowed in the station, brakes squealing, before finally grinding to a halt. Carriage doors flew open all along the train, and masses of students poured out, carrying heavy trunks and hooting owls. Immediately, Harry spotted Ginny's vivid hair, and his legs felt weak with relief. She was really home.

She gripped her trunk, and Harry rushed forward with a trolley to help her. Lavender and Parvati waved cheerily to him and called, and he merrily waved back. At hearing his name, Ginny turned, finding him in the crowd. Her face immediately brightened and she glowed, her smile beautiful in her face. Harry hastened to her, pushing the trolley to the side as she rushed to him. Her hug was so tight that it nearly bruised his ribs, but he didn't care. It was wonderful to hold her once more.

He made to pull away from her, but she quickly took his face in her hands and kissed him full in front of everybody. Smiling against her lips, Harry put his hands in her hair and then gently pulled away. He mouthed to her, "Later".

Putting her trunk on the trolley, Harry said, "I missed you. How was term?"

"It was great." Her hair danced behind her shoulders, catching every small bit of light. "I'm so glad I got to drop Potions. I was absolute rubbish at it. Now every class I'm in, I at least enjoy."

"Is the homework still brutal?"

Ginny made a face. "Merlin, yes. The new Transfiguration teacher, Professor Clayworth, made us write out three rolls of parchment in last week of term. And Professor Sprout is expecting us to be able to properly obtain teeth from the Venomous Tantacula by February. You've faced that thing, it's huge!"

Harry chuckled. "I'm sure you'll do wonderful."

Catching sight of Hermione's mop of hair beside Ron's a small distance away, Harry took Ginny's hand and led her to them. Harry loaded Hermione's trunk on top of Ginny's and gave her a hug. "We missed you, Hermione."

"I missed you guys too!" She impatiently pushed hair from her face. "I can't wait to see everyone else."

Ginny had broken away and was busy greeting her parents. Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked over, Harry puffing slightly as he pushed the heavy trolley. Ron said, "What do you carry in there Hermione, lead weights?"

Hermione said placidly, "No, just books."

Mr. Weasley said to the three of them, "George will be at the Burrow when we get back. He says he has a surprise." Shrugging, Mr. Weasley took on an expression of quiet bewilderment, conveying that he hadn't the slightest idea what the surprise was.

Collecting the trunks, Mrs. Weasley looked at everyone grouped together and said, "Well… I suppose we can Apparate, can't we?"

Eyes suspiciously bright, she said, "After you, Arthur."

Arthur turned on the spot and vanished, followed closely by Mrs. Weasley. Harry smiled, and looked to the girls. "Want to go next?"

Hermione turned on the spot after vanishing the two trunks, and Ginny shot a grin at Harry before following. Ron and Harry, together, twisted and disappeared with a _pop_. After terrible uncomfortable seconds of compression, Harry was taking deep breaths of clean country air. Ginny was running through the snow towards the house, her hair flying behind her like a flag.

Following her footsteps, Harry joined her in the house. George was seated at the right side of the table, looking pale and tired, but better. Beside him sat—

"Angelina!" Hermione exclaimed, coming in behind Harry, "Hi!"

"Hi, guys." Angelina was smiling quietly, her thick hair braided behind her neck. "Merry Christmas!"

"I didn't know you were coming!" Ginny said, sitting in a chair opposite Angelina and George after hugging Charlie and Percy tightly. "I didn't buy you a present!"

"It's alright," said Angelina, "It was kind of a last minute thing."

Mrs. Weasley was already busying herself with dinner. "We're so glad to have you, dear. Come by anytime you like." Addressing the rest of the family, she said, "We'll decorate the tree as soon as dinner is over."

Just then, the back door opened once more, and Bill and Fleur entered, snow coating their shoulders and hair. Bill carried a large stack of presents, and Fleur gave a throaty, "Surprise! Merry Chreestmas!"

"You weren't due until tomorrow!" Mrs. Weasley cried delightedly, dropping her wooden spoon and hastening to her eldest son.

Hugs were exchanged once more, Fleur giving Harry two kisses on each cheek, Bill shaking his hand fiercely. His scars seemed to be improving, and he was far cheerier than the last time Harry had seen him. "Alright, Harry?"

"Fine, thanks Bill. How's Shell Cottage?"

"Snowy, believe it or not. First time in a decade, the villagers are saying."

Fleur said, "Of course, eet is when we are coming 'ome for Chreestmas. Ze view is simply beautiful."

Bustling away, Fleur busied herself by helping Mrs. Weasley and Hermione cook dinner. George was talking to Ron about the shop, and Ginny had started a rousing game of Exploding Snap in the living room with Charlie, Bill, and Angelina. Harry sidled to sit beside Mr. Weasley, who sat alone at the end of the table. "A quiet Christmas, huh?"

"It'll never be a quiet Christmas at the Burrow," Mr. Weasley said, chuckling slightly. "This may be as tame as it gets."

Dinner was served shortly after, and Harry found himself sitting directly beside Ginny, their arms touching as they cut their turkey. The family seemed to be generally pleased that they were together again, though Harry tried to avoid the topic and kept to himself whenever it came up, assuming a large grin. Over pudding, Percy asked, "So, Angelina, do you like working at the joke shop?"

"It's certainly never boring," Angelina replied, taking a sip of Christmas mead. "There's always business. It finally slows down around eight o clock at night, but from opening to then it's madness; I barely have time for lunch."

"And George has rented you the room above, next to his, is that right?" Charlie asked with a grin.

George choked on his drink, clearly caught off guard. Angelina, however, wasn't fazed. "Yes, that's right… My parents and I aren't getting along too well right now. George was kind enough to allow me to stay with him."

Trying to recover himself, George said, "I don't accept rent from her. She's tried to give it to me numerous times, but I won't allow it."

"Stubborn as a Blast Ended Skrewt," Angelina smirked.

Changing the subject, Bill quickly said, "So how's the Auror career, boys?"

Harry, who had been focused on the tightness of his belt, quickly said, "It's going well."

"We got offices," Ron inserted.

"That's always a step up," said Percy, giving a proud nod.

"Harry's been working on a specific case," Ron said.

"Are you tailing someone?" Bill asked.

"I wish," said Harry, "He's disappeared. I've been trying to trace him, but the trail is stone cold."

"Why are you sticking with this one?" Charlie asked.

"He escaped from the first mission Ron and I went on. I want him caught. Hestia thinks he might even be mad."

"I hope you catch him," Mrs. Weasley put in, "Merlin knows we don't need any more trouble."

After dinner, just as Mrs. Weasley promised, they decorated the tree with tinsel and baubles, an ugly gnome disguised as an angel on top of the tree once more, thanks to a chuckling George. He whispered to Harry, "Don't tell mum. I'm going to see how many years we can get away with it."

Full of Christmas dinner, they all sat around the comfortable living room, basking in the warmth of the house and fireplace. Fleur was dozing on Bill's shoulder, and Ginny sat at Harry's feet, leaning against Harry's legs. The familiar notes of Celestina Warbeck spilled from the wireless set, and Mrs. Weasley hummed along as she finished some knitting.

As _A Cauldron Full of Hot Strong Love_ began to play, Fleur woke up, shaking her head. "Ah. You know, Molly, thees song is not so bad, after all."

Bill chortled beside her and pulled Fleur to her feet. "Come here."

They began a small two step behind the couch, twirling together. George said, "Oh, we can't have that," and quickly pulled Angelina up too, turning her in a tight circle. "We're much better dancers than them."

"Stand aside, boys," Mr. Weasley said as he sauntered over with Mrs. Weasley, who was still holding her knitting and giggling like a much younger woman, "This is _our_ song."

With everyone dancing and moving, the living room was now much more crowded than it had been. Harry leaned over to Ginny and said in her ear, "Do you think we can slip out for just a moment? There's somewhere I want to take you."

Ginny stood, helping Harry to his feet. He stretched, cracking his back, and then walked to Ron and Hermione. "Come with us. There's somewhere I wanted to go tonight. And, of course, I can't go without Hermione."

Hermione smiled and followed Harry and Ginny out of the living room, to the kitchen, Ron trailing behind and looking utterly bewildered. Donning hats, gloves, and coats, the four trooped to the backyard. It was snowing gently, flurrying around them as they walked to the back gate. Harry said, "Hermione knows where we're going. Ron, why don't you go with her?"

Ron immediately took her hand, and they Apparated away. Ginny slipped her fingers through Harry's, looking at him curiously. "Where are we going?"

"There's someone I want you to meet."

* * *

The little church was exactly as it had been a year ago, choirs humming through the open doors. The village was beautiful, covered with snow that settled itself softly. The gate to the churchyard stood ajar, and Ron and Hermione stood waiting for them inside, Hermione already carrying a wreath.

Harry felt his heart go in his throat as he led Ginny through the small gate.

He remembered exactly where they were. Towards the middle of the cemetery, their graves were slightly worn but beautiful. Ginny caught her breath as she approached with them, and for once, was speechless. Her eyes shimmered in the darkness.

Ron was looking at the ground with an unreadable expression. "This is a nice spot for them, Harry."

"Yeah." Harry was having difficulty swallowing.

Hermione, tears billowing in her eyes, handed Harry the Christmas wreath, gave the ground a look that teetered on gratefulness, and then took Ron by the hand and led him to the next row, pointing out the grave she had found last year; Ignotus Peverell's.

Harry kneeled in the snow between the two graves of his parents, and carefully placed the flowered wreath in between them. He coughed, trying to clear his throat, and he held out his arm for Ginny. She walked to him, and his hand met her slender waist as she put an arm around his shoulder.

Coughing once more, Harry said, "Hi, guys. Merry Christmas."

Last year, it would have struck Harry as odd that he was talking to people who would never respond, but now it seemed to him the right thing to do. After all, he had met them in the forest, the man with the untidy hair and glasses, and the woman who had died for him.

"Mum. Dad." Harry found Ginny's hand, her left. "This is Ginny Weasley. She… She's beautiful, isn't she? Well, I thought you'd like to meet her. I think she'll stay for a while. Forever, I think." He shot a small smile at Ginny, and was surprised to see tears on her cheeks. Harry, suddenly unable to find words, felt thickness seep back into his throat and heat sear his eyes. He managed to say, "I think you'd love her. She's really vivacious. Stubborn. Strong. Perfect."

Standing, Harry wiped his nose on his coat sleeve. "I think she loves you, too."

Ginny nodded, crying silently. She whispered, "Can I… Harry… Can I have a moment with them, please?"

Harry kissed her hair, said, "Merry Christmas, mum and dad," and walked away. Through the snow crunching beneath his feet, he heard Ginny whisper, "You have a wonderful son. You should be so proud…"

* * *

Later that night, Harry was making his way upstairs to go to bed. He found Ginny sitting on a large windowsill, a floor below the top level. The snow falling outside reflected in her eyes, and she tugged her nightgown over her knees as Harry approached, hugging them to her chest to make room for him. "Hey, Harry."

He sat across from her. "Hey, beautiful."

She smiled. "I love when you say that. Is that bad?"

"No." He took her hand, grinning at her.

She took a breath. "Thank you for this evening. For introducing me."

Harry didn't smile, but his tone was even when he said, "I stand by what I said. I think she especially would love you."

He kissed the top of her hand, and she shifted, cupping his cheek with the same hand. She leaned towards him, inches from his face. Her eyes were large in her face, liquid pools of chocolate. Her sweet breath washed over his face, making his mouth water. He closed his eyes, catching both sides of her face with each of his hands, brushing the hair that rested beside her ear gently. He listened to her breaths, even and gentle, and smiled.

She leaned into him, hooking her free hand around his neck. Her lips were hot, soft, but this kiss was nothing like their previous ones, back at that Hogsmeade weekend. Her eyelashes fluttered against his, and she shifted in his arms. His hands found her back, and he could feel every precious inch of her, her skin hot even through a layer of pajamas. His breath caught in his throat, as did hers. His fingers traced up her spine, and he realized that she wasn't wearing a bra. She pushed against him, feminine softness meeting his chest, and he could hear his breath hitch, his blood pressure rising through the roof.

Gently, he pulled away from her, breathing quickly. She smiled at him, and her right hand found the place on his chest where his heart was beating, feeling the rapid tattoo of it against his chest. Her gorgeous hair had fallen in her face, a few strands catching on her gorgeous eyelashes. Her smile spread slowly, her cheeks dimpling and her blush prominent across the top of her cheeks.

Sweet Merlin, she was beyond beautiful.

His hands moved to her neck and then to her face, his thumbs brushing the delicate skin beneath her eyes. Her hands moved, and the curve of her wrist brushed his arm, broadcasting soft, smooth, sweet skin that was begging to be kissed. He grinned foolishly, trying to clear his head, thinking of her slender neck beneath his lips and her legs beneath his palms. He never thought it possible to find someone so significantly precious, to have someone to share the rest of his Christmases with.

He kissed her forehead softly, still smiling. "Merry Christmas, Ginny."

"Merry Christmas, Harry."

* * *

To Ginny's embarrassment, he insisted on carrying her downstairs to her room, that beautiful grin still etched on his face. Upon making sure her room wasn't being shared with anyone, he nudged it open with his hip and crossed to her bed, setting her gently over the bedcovers. His hair was outlined from the moon that had broken through the clouds outside, his eyes dancing even in dim lighting. Ginny could feel her heart swelling in her chest, her smile so wide that she thought it would break her face. She couldn't remember ever feeling so happy with someone, so happy with her life. She knew it was all because of Harry.

"It's time I got to bed," he whispered.

Ginny reached her arms up to him, and he leaned down, his face close to hers. Just having him touch her sent Ginny's heart slogging, struggling to keep up with her hitching breath. She watched his eyes widen, and his crooked grin tip further upwards. "I can't be distracted again, Weasley."

Regardless, he closed the distance between them, pushing his lips firmly against hers. Every thought in her head was dissipated, her entire being focused on him. Her fingers found his hair, wrapping themselves around it, and she pulled him down, sighing as a portion of his weight settled over her. _Harry_. She wiggled beneath him, setting herself center, and she could feel his hands catch the flare of her hips. He caught his breath, and she grinned against his mouth, feeling a strange swoop in her stomach.

"Harry," she whispered against his lips.

He pulled away, eyes wide and dark. Oh, so dark. She grinned as she noticed the red in his cheeks. "I need to go, Ginny. Not tonight."

She sighed, and wrapped her arms around his neck. "You're so picky, Potter."

He gave a small smile, but then sobered. "You mean too much to me. I'm allowed to be picky."

Standing from her bed, he gave her a goodnight kiss, soft and gentle. His mouth working with hers, she struggled to keep her head above the surface, desperately not wanting to get lost when he would just pull her out. He pulled away, smiling again. "I'll see you in the morning, Ginny."

A shudder ran down her spine, delicious and tingly. She said, "Same to you, Harry."

She thought she was imagining, but she could have swore he shuddered too. He kissed her forehead. "I love you. I love you so much."

"I love you too."

With what seemed to be most of his willpower, he pulled away from her, walked backwards, still smiling at her. "Sleep well, beautiful."

_Beautiful_. She could get used to that. And though it killed her to watch him close the door, she could feel happiness brimming through her very soul, spilling into her. Maybe next Christmas, she could be entirely alone with him. For now, though, she would just have to appreciate what she had, and that was having him all to herself.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed. :3 Merry Christmas in June! Lol! I didn't want to wait until July. X3**

**Please leave a review. I love you guys.**

**Always, **

**Lori**


	12. Questioning

**Not only did we break fifty reviews… We broke sixty! AHHHHHHH! You guys are so. Freaking. Amazing. Thank you so, so much. I couldn't do this without my readers, without the reviews and the favorites and the follows. I'm absolutely floored by the attention I've gotten. Seriously. Thank you, thank you, thank you. **

**So hi! I've missed you guys. Things are actually pretty chaotic right now. I recently got a job and have been suffering some major writer's block, since all my energy is focused on eating and sleeping. XD**

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**Anyway, onwards! :3 Don't forget to review! You guys are awesome.**

**I own nothing!**

12

Christmas Day passed in a rush of presents and delicious food. Harry thought privately it was an enormous improvement over last year, when it was just he and Hermione reading Rita Skeeter. Ginny had given Harry a book over new age defensive spells, promising that it had seemed a solid read; in return, Harry gave her a new set of Chaser's gloves for Quidditch games and a small bracelet. She was delighted, and Harry was silently thankful, having felt the pressure to get her something she would like.

Following a quiet Boxing Day, most of the Weasleys returned home. Bill and Fleur left after lunch, while George and Angelina had departed early that morning. Harry was happy that Angelina was giving George a shoulder and friendship; he seemed much better these days, if not still maintaining a hollowness in his eyes. Charlie left the day after Bill and Fleur, followed by Percy, though the bespectacled Weasley made a point to say goodbye to everyone individually, and didn't leave in his usual airy, rushed manner.

The end of the holidays brought about a somber Harry and Ron. Happy as they were for the girls, it was with a heavy heart that they helped them collect their things the day before the train arrived again.

"It's not that I'm in a particular rush to get back," Ginny said, shaking her head as Harry handed her a pair of socks, "I don't miss the workload, and all the buzz about N.E.W.T.s. It's just like O.W.L. year, except harder." She paused, looking straight forward in thought. "The way the professors act, you'd think they have no faith in us."

"I have faith in you," Harry said, without thinking. He blushed and bit his lip, looking away from her hastily as he folded another pair of socks.

"Thank you, Harry," she said softly, folding a pair of robes, giving a small smile.

Harry took a breath, and then said, "I do. I believe in you." He grinned at her. "You can do anything."

She smiled and didn't say anything, carefully placing some spellbooks on top of her robes.

Harry cleared his throat. "So there's something I haven't had a chance to tell you."

"What's that?" Ginny examined a graded essay from Arithmancy. "Did you get an idea about that wizard you're tailing?"

A bitter taste filled Harry's mouth. "No. But it is something at the Ministry."

Sighing, Ginny placed the essay at the bottom of her trunk. "Go on, then."

"The Malfoys are on trial."

"Okay. All of the Death Eaters are." She peered at him curiously. "Why does it matter?"

"Draco asked me for help."

Ginny froze, and then chuckled. "You're joking."

"No. He came and saw me in my office." Harry paused to take in the weird feeling that lingered from saying the sentence. "Apparently, I'm allowed to testify."

"Are you going to?" Harry couldn't decipher the note in her voice.

Harry hesitated again, swallowing. Then, "Yes."

Saying nothing, Ginny placed another book.

"Ron and Hermione are going to as well."

"Pals with the Malfoys now, the three of you?"

There was definite disdain in her voice, and Harry felt himself bristle. "We aren't friends. They need help."

"So everything can be forgotten? Just like that, eh? Forget that Mr. Malfoy tried to kill us at the Ministry and has had it in for you since you met him in second year; he says he needs help and that all goes out the window!"

"Ron took some persuading," Harry said quietly, "He's very reluctant about it."

"Good man," Ginny said nastily.

"It isn't like that! I won't let them suffer the Dementor's kiss just because they repealed at the last minute."

"The _very_ last minute. Did a couple of our friends in first, though, didn't they? _Colin_, Harry! Tonks!"

Harry felt a nasty jolt in his naval. His mouth felt dry, and he felt as though he had eaten a large can of wiggling worms. With a horrible sinking feeling, Harry realized the time had come; it was time to tell Ginny the truth about the forest and why he felt such a need to spare the Malfoys. He gestured to Ginny's bed. "Sit down."

"I ruddy will _not_ sit down!" Ginny's eyes were blazing and her gorgeous hair was falling from its knot. "I can't believe you'd do this. I know that you've always been noble, but this is sickening."

Fighting hard to keep his voice even, Harry said, "Ginny. I don't want to fight with you on this. I have to do this, and you just need to accept it."

"Why do you _have_ to, Harry? You don't _have_ to do anything anymore! You-Know-Who is gone, and the Death Eaters are almost nonexistent! You can finally put these things behind you! I don't understand why you're refusing to live a normal life!"

Harry swallowed. "This is about me being an Auror, isn't it?"

Ginny's eyes blazed into his. "It might be."

His temper flared. "This is what I want to do, Ginny! It's the only thing I've ever had an interest in!"

"Of course it is," said Ginny. Harry was alarmed to see her blinking back tears. "I knew when the battle was over what I was getting into. That I would await every single owl from you and that St. Mungo's letters would find me and send me into full out panic. That I wouldn't know half the time how you were or if you were even alive; I knew it would be like last year, as if You-Know-Who isn't gone and you're just off fighting him again."

"That isn't fair," Harry said, "That isn't fair at all."

"_None_ of this is fair!" Ginny turned from him, running a delicate hand through her hair. "You're defending the Malfoys when they helped kill my brother. And you're still out there risking your life and making me lose sleep."

Harry felt himself deflate, his temper rapidly cooling. "Ginny—"

"Get out. I'm done discussing this. Have fun at work tomorrow."

"I can't leave you like—"

"You already did, Harry. Last year." Her voice broke. "Please go."

Looking at her sadly, Harry backed up, taking his time in case she changed her mind and called him back. She didn't, but stood with her back resolutely to him, shoulders hunched. Anger flared once more, and Harry did a swift about face and closed the door with an echoing _snap_.

* * *

Harry found Hermione the next morning before he and Ron left for work and said goodbye. She didn't ask him about Ginny, though he could tell from her eyes that she wanted to. Harry left without saying goodbye to Ginny, the bitter taste returning to his mouth, and his heart twisting painfully.

Ron, however, was not as thoughtful as Hermione, which he had proved when Harry had stormed into their room last night. Again, Ron started questioning him. "What did you two have a row about? Did she ditch you?"

"She didn't ditch me," Harry snapped, though he added privately, _She might as well have_.

"Then what happened?"

"Nothing. Let's just leave it alone."

Ron opened his mouth to argue back, but Harry was saved by Hestia. "Oh! Harry, good, there you are. Osburn sent me for you."

"Really? What for?" Harry felt his annoyance and guilty feelings subsiding.

"He didn't say. He's waiting for you in his office."

Harry set off quickly, leaving Ron with Hestia. He quickly went to one of the banging lifts and impatiently waited for it, tapping his foot when it finally arrived and he waited for his floor. Harry hastened to Osburn's office, which was a little ways from his own. Osburn was seated at his desk, rubbing his hand across his face and looking at a spattering of pictures around the desk, as well as a photograph. Harry recognized it as the wizard they were chasing.

Excitedly, Harry asked, "A lead?"

Wearily, Osburn nodded. "A sighting. In Wales. Apparently, our culprit was a bit careless around the holidays and decided to treat himself to a drink in a Muggle village. Someone recognized him from a flier they had seen." Osburn then rested his head on his fist, kneading his forehead. "He fled as soon as he realized another wizard was present. But I'm almost certain he's still around there."

Harry hadn't felt this excited in a while. "Should we set out?"

"I already sent someone to see if they can track him. If they spot him again, we'll go."

* * *

The next week went by without a word from the Auror Osburn had set out or from Ginny. Harry wanted to write her an owl and make up with her, though he thought that she would simply ignore it. He thought if he gave her a bit more space, she would cool off.

Hermione came home briefly on the day of the Malfoys' trial at the end of the week; Harry and Ron met her at a floo gate in the Atrium. She fretted to the two about how she was worried Professor Vector was angry with her, even though she had gotten all of her work in advance. Ron snorted, straightening his robes, slightly nicer than the ones he usually wore to work. "Hermione, the day a Professor is angry with you is the day my dad stops loving Muggle stuff. Don't worry about it."

Harry put in, "It's not as though you're missing an entire week."

This seemed to do nothing to quell Hermione's worry. Apparently looking around for something to do, she checked her watch. "When does the trial begin again?"

"Not for another twenty minutes. We ought to get down there, though," Harry said, hastening away from the grate.

The three of them walked through the Atrium together, making their way to the lifts. Hermione patted her hair, the bushiness tamed and placed neatly in a high twist. Harry had to admit, she looked much more tired than usual, circles underlining her eyes, her face pale. Having expected this, Harry avoided asking her about exams, worrying that he'd be treated to a rant that would carry on all the way down to the courtrooms.

Ron said, with a pointed look at Harry, "How is Ginny?"

"She's fine," Hermione said flatly, in a voice devoid of emotion. Harry found himself silently pleading her for answers, though she was impassive. She said, "Harry, if you're worried, just write to her."

Harry didn't answer.

They reached the underground courtrooms in silence. Hermione unexpectedly said, "Remember the last time we were down here, Harry?"

Without smiling, Harry said, "Yeah. We stole the Horcrux."

"And freed the Muggleborns. They were petrified, remember?"

"Yes. It seems so long ago."

Remembering Patronuses and the terrible power of the Dementors, Harry hastily banished the thoughts from his mind, shivers running up his back.

Thankfully, the courtroom they were going to wasn't the same as the one Umbridge had been using to interrogate the Muggleborns. Harry had never been in this one, but it was smaller and somehow warmer than the others he had been in. The atmosphere when they walked inside, however, was cold, though Harry had a feeling it could be worse. The Wizengamot lined the right side of the dungeon, and Kingsley presided where a judge normally would. He waved to the three of them as they entered, and gestured for them to sit on his left side, on the side of the courtroom that wasn't as full, half filled with spectators. Harry, with a stab of irritation and anger, saw Rita Skeeter tucked neatly in a corner, sucking on her Quick Quotes quill.

"What's _she_ doing here?" Hermione asked waspishly, catching sight of Rita.

"Ignore her," Ron said softly, steering her by the elbow as far away from Rita as possible.

As they sat down, Harry caught sight of Draco Malfoy sitting not too far from Rita Skeeter, wearing high collared dress robes, his throat bobbing. Their eyes met across the court room, and Draco nodded, looking almost relieved at the sight of the three of them.

Harry let the strangeness of this sink in before he returned his thoughts to the court room.

A soft kind of chatter was rising everywhere, though people seemed to cast furtive looks at the two chairs stationed in the center of the court. Harry wondered if they were thinking of who had sat in those chairs before the Malfoys, as he was.

Abruptly, the chatter stopped as a door opened on the right side of Kingsley, and a wizard in green robes with his wand drawn appeared. Following him was Lucius Malfoy, looking particularly the worse for wear. He wasn't a thin or drawn as when Voldemort was in power, though his blond hair was graying at the temples and he looked as though he hadn't slept well in weeks. His robes were slightly patched and shabby looking, though somehow still maintaining a dignified, noble air. While Lucius walked with his head bowed, Narcissa entered with her head held high, her eyes darting around the courtroom. Her white blond hair was tangled in places, and she, too, had shadows beneath her eyes.

A second green robed wizard followed the Malfoys, and together he and his partner showed the Malfoys to their chairs.

Kingsley said, "Ladies and gentlemen, we will resume the trial of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. Both Lucius and Narcissa are accused of alleged Death Eater activities—" the crowd murmured angrily here, though Kingsley continued over them, "—and are being considered for pardon from the Wizengamot. We have three people who wish to testify in favor the Malfoys today: Mr. Harry Potter—"

The crowd erupted into applause. Harry felt his face burn.

Kingsley continued, "Mr. Ronald Weasley—" more applause, "And Miss Hermione Granger." There was applause for Hermione too. Both she and Ron looked pleased, though Ron's ears were glowing and Hermione seemed rather flustered.

Surveying the courtroom, Kingsley said, "I'd like to begin with Mr. Ronald Weasley."

Kingsley motioned, and Ron took the seat that was on Kingsley's right. Harry wondered if there was going to be a wizard equivalent of lawyers, though Kingsley proceeded with just asking Ron a few questions.

"Ron, could you state your full name?"

"Ronald Bilius Weasley." Ron was looking distinctly uncomfortable under the gaze of every eye.

"Mr. Weasley, have you ever had direct contact with Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy?"

"Er," Ron tugged at the collar of his robes, "No. But I went to school with their son Draco."

"Were you friends with Draco?"

"Not exactly." Ron squirmed in his seat. "We were in different houses. I can't say we were the best of friends, but… In the end, we—Harry, Hermione, and I—ended up saving his life twice in the Battle of Hogwarts."

The crowd murmured. Kingsley ignored him. "You witnessed Mr. Malfoy amongst the Death Eaters four years ago in the Department of Mysteries, is that correct?"

"Er, yeah."

Kingsley seemed to bite back a smile. "I'm to take it he tried to hurt you?"

"At the time, yes." Ron's ears were steadily turning purple, and his neck began to redden.

"At the time? Did he ever try to injure you outside that occasion?"

Ron hesitated. "Yes." He cleared his throat. "When Harry, Hermione, and I were in hiding last year—" the crowd rippled again, "We were captured by a group of Snatchers. We were taken to Malfoy Manor, and both Harry and I dueled the Malfoys then. We escaped, however," Ron added hastily as the crowd buzzed. When they settled once more, Ron went on. "I didn't see him again until the Battle of Hogwarts, but that was after… After the reinforcements arrived." Ron finished somewhat lamely, though Harry remembered he wasn't telling the entire truth. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had seen Mr. Malfoy in the Shrieking Shack just before Voldemort had Snape murdered in front of them. This wasn't common knowledge, however, so Harry decided to agree with Ron and not voice this.

"Did the Malfoys try to harm you at the Battle of Hogwarts?"

"No. They just seemed to be keen on finding Mal—Draco."

"What about after He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was defeated? Did either of them make any threatening move afterwards?"

"No. They sat with Draco at the Slytherin table and minded their own business. I haven't spoken to them or to Draco since the Battle of Hogwarts." Ron seemed to be struggling with something internally, and then said, rather hurriedly, "The Malfoys should be pardoned. I myself didn't see them attacking anyone during the Battle and haven't witnessed them trying to do harm to a fellow wizard since the Department of Mysteries."

The crowd murmured around them, but Kingsley nodded. "Thank you, Ron. That's all."

Ron stood, and Kingsley asked Hermione to take his place. Harry squeezed Hermione's trembling arm quickly, and he saw she and Ron exchange a look as they passed each other. Ron took her empty seat, and Harry was glad to see him losing the red in his ears.

Hermione sat down beside Kingsley, hiding her trembling hands in her lap. However, her voice was quite clear when she stated her full name for the Wizengamot. "Hermione Jean Granger."

"Hermione," Kingsley began, "Could you describe your relationship with the Malfoys?"

Taking a steadying breath, Hermione said, "As is the case with Ron and Harry, I went to school with Draco Malfoy up until our sixth year… We didn't get along, but you'd be hard put to find a Gryffindor and a Slytherin who do. I only met Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy on a handful of occasions."

"When did you first meet them?"

Hermione swallowed. "I met Mr. Malfoy in Flourish and Blotts my second year. I met Mrs. Malfoy, or, rather, saw her for the first time, at the Quidditch World Cup in my fourth year. They sat behind us in the top box."

"All of the Malfoys did?"

"Yes."

"Did Mr. or Mrs. Malfoy give you any unpleasantness in the brief times that you've been with them that haven't been battle?"

Hermione swallowed. She seemed to be steeling herself. She said, more to the Wizengamot than Kingsley, "I'm a Muggleborn. The Malfoys have a record for being proud of their pure blood. I would be lying to you if I said I haven't caught wind of disdain or haughtiness. The only person I have been directly insulted by, however, would be Draco and the deceased Death Eater, Bellatrix Lestrange."

Harry glanced at Narcissa to see if this perturbed her any, though her smooth face was impassive.

Kingsley asked, "Have the Malfoys ever caused you physical injury, Hermione?"

"No. I've never done battle with Mrs. Malfoy, and the only time I fought Mr. Malfoy was in the Department of Mysteries."

"You didn't fight at Malfoy Manor?"

"No, I… I was unconscious."

For the first time, Hermione showed signs of nervousness. Kingsley said, slightly gently, "Hermione, how were you knocked unconscious?"

"I…" Hermione worried her lip. The crowd was leaning forward anxiously. Bowing her head, Hermione confessed, "I was tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange."

The crowd erupted all around. Rita Skeeter's Quick Quotes quill was whizzing so quickly across parchment that it was just a green blur. Kingsley had to shoot a bang from his wand to restore order. "Hermione, this isn't a trial for Bellatrix Lestrange. We don't need details. Did the Malfoys try to stop the torture?"

Hermione didn't answer for a solid minute. "No. But they weren't doing anything to help it either. They were indifferent."

The crowd was buzzing angrily, and Kingsley said something quietly to Hermione. Hermione got off the stand and motioned for Harry to take his place. Harry stood, meeting eyes with Ron briefly before he worked his way over to Kingsley. He offered Hermione a small smile, which she returned, though he noticed her eyes were wet and her face was much more ashen up close.

Harry sat beside Kingsley. He could see the entire courtroom from here, including the Malfoys. Mr. Malfoy was looking at him with empty, pitiful eyes, and Narcissa was looking at Kingsley with impassiveness.

"What's your full name, Harry?" Kingsley asked him, now that the court was silent once more.

"Harry James Potter," Harry answered quietly.

"Harry, you've had the most interaction with the Malfoys out of the three testifiers, correct?"

"I think so," Harry said uncertainly. "I met Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy at the same time as the others, though."

"Do the Malfoys have any reason besides the obvious to dislike you, Harry?"

"Er…" Harry paused. "I helped set their house elf free, Dobby." A stab of sorrow hit Harry's gut full force.

"You helped? How so?"

"Mr. Malfoy had left a diary with Professor Albus Dumbledore—" another stab of pain, "And I pulled off one of my socks at the time and stuffed the diary inside. I gave it to Mr. Malfoy, and he threw the sock aside and Dobby caught it."

"Was he angry with you?"

"Yes. I don't know how Mrs. Malfoy reacted, though."

"The next time you saw Mr. Malfoy was at the Quidditch World Cup though, correct?"

"Yes, that's correct."

"And on the eve of the final task in the Triwizard Tournament, was he amongst the Death Eaters who came to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named when he rose again?"

"Yes. Voldemort—" the crowd flinched, "—addressed him directly."

"Did he try to harm you that evening?"

"I can't know for sure. I… In the end, I was able to run away, and the present Death Eaters were trying to jinx me. I have no way of knowing who it was."

"Until the Department of Mysteries, was that the last direct contact you had with him?"

"Yes."

"What about Mrs. Malfoy?"

"Ron, Hermione, and I met her briefly at the beginning of our sixth year in Madam Malkin's."

"Harry, how do you think the Malfoys felt about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"

Harry considered for a moment. "I think that in the end, they doubted their actions. I think at the end of the war they repented. Granted, it took them until then to realize the error of their ways, but I think that they did get there."

As he left the stand, he was applauded once more. His cheeks were flaring, and he resumed his seat beside Ron. He caught eyes with Draco, whose high cheeks were flushed; Draco nodded, his eyes betraying nothing.

Kingsley was addressing the Wizengamot, "Based on the testimonies of these three, and the evidence given in previous trials, a decision concerning the Malfoys must be made. Those in favor of conviction and no pardon, raise your right hand."

A small handful of the Wizengamot did. Harry counted twenty perhaps.

"In favor of pardon?"

The rest of the Wizengamot raised their hands, three quarters. Kingsley said, with a nod, "The Malfoys are pardoned. The Wizengamot may disassemble."

Everyone got to their feet, stretching, and the Malfoys stood, looking slightly uncertain. Harry turned to Ron and Hermione. "Thanks. I couldn't have done this without you."

Hermione flapped her hand to say it was nothing, though Ron's eyes narrowed. "I can't say I like them. But I'm glad they won't suffer."

Draco had hastened over to them. He locked eyes with Harry, and then Ron and Hermione. He gave each of them a terse nod. Ron was standing straighter, his neck growing red one more. Draco said, looking as though he were about to choke on something, "Thank you. I owe the three of you."

Ron looked like he wanted to say something scathing, but held his tongue. Harry said, "We were happy to help. They repented, in the end."

"I owe you," Draco whispered, then hurriedly walked down to his parents. His mother embraced him, and Lucius looked up at Harry, Ron, and Hermione, his cold, gray eyes gazing over them. Then, slowly, he gave a short, grateful nod.

The lift carried Harry, Ron, Hermione, and a partial of the spectators upstairs. Harry and Ron walked Hermione through the Atrium to a Floo grate, saying goodbye to her. Ron looked sad to see her go, and gave her a longer hug than Harry had. Hermione said to Harry, "Ginny isn't as angry anymore. Maybe now that the trial is over, you can send her a letter and try to make up."

Harry nodded. "I'll give her a few more days. Then I think I'll write to her."

Hermione gave Harry a last grin, Ron a quick kiss, and then disappeared in a rush of emerald flames.

Making their way back upstairs to the Auror offices, Harry said, "We did well today, didn't we?"

"Yeah." Ron shrugged, a slight smile on his face. "I never thought I'd see the day when we'd help acquit the Malfoys."

As they got out of the lift, someone rushed over to Harry. To his surprise, it was Neville. "Harry," he said, his round face ashen and worried, "Something's happened. Quickly."

Harry hastened to follow Neville, Ron at his heels. Neville was taking them to Osburn's office. Osburn was outside, pacing. When he caught sight of Harry, he hurried over and met them. "The Auror tailing our wizard was attacked. Luckily someone found him. We have a name, though."

"What?"

"Smeckett. We didn't catch a first name."

"So he's a definite threat?"

Osburn hesitated, and then said, "I think you ought to take a look in your office, Potter."

With a feeling of dread, Harry walked the several spaces down to his office. He poked his head in the door to find an abandoned, smoldering envelope on his desk, the surrounding papers, quills, ink, and photos damaged with smoking purple sap. It had evidently been owled to him, and he had luckily missed it; a message had survived the exploding curse, appearing to be crafted out of Daily Prophet letters, standing upside down in front of the envelope. Peering at it upside down, Harry made out what it said:

_SHE'S NEXT._

**DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUN**_**. **_**Oh geez! Just when Harry thought everything was going to be alright! Poor Harry. D:**

**And I leave you there! MWAHAHAHAHA. :D I'm an evil person. **

**I apologize for the court scene. XD I know it's dry. I wanted so bad to get to this last paragraph. X3 ****To Kill A Mockingbird**** by Harper Lee is my favorite book, can you tell? XDXDXD**

**Anyways, I leave you here for tonight! –cackles evilly and flees into nearby hidden lair-**

**Don't forget to review! I love you guys so much!**

**Lori**


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